


My Name is Max

by Gerec



Series: My Name is Max [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Families of Choice, Happy Ending, Kink Meme, M/M, Mpreg, Not compliant with DOFP, Post Beach Divorce, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 57,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=18452476#t18452476">Prompt:</a>
  <br/>
  <i>I recently read a minifill wherein Charles died trying to give birth to a son and Erik never got there in time because when Charles wrote to him to tell him the news, Erik ignored all the letters.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Could we have fill somewhat like that but Charles survives and Erik never knows having never read and thrown out almost all the letters. Then come years (up to the anon how old the child is) later, Erik finds out that he is the father and confronts Charles. Accusations fly until it spills out that since Erik never replied, Charles assumed Erik never wanted anything to do  with them.</i>
</p><p>Summary: Max Xavier, 7 year old telepath and genius, attempts to make his Daddy feel better by bringing his Father and Aunt Raven home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sean, Alex, Hank

It’s very late at night and he’s half asleep when Sean goes in to check on the Professor. So the question surprises him, even though they've been expecting something like it for at least the last couple of years. 

“Did you know my father, Erik Lehnsherr?”

_Erik, pushing Sean off the satellite. “Here, let me help.” A scream. Falling. Flying. Laughter._

_Erik, across from Charles in the study, late at night. A game of chess. Voices low. Intimate._

_Erik, slamming his body on top of Charles as the Blackbird rolls mid air. Metal creaking. Spinning. A crash._

_Erik, holding Charles in his arms. “I want you by my side.” Sand. Blood. Sulfur._

He’s not even conscious of the myriad thoughts and memories flitting through his mind as he looks at the little boy on the bed. Max has curled his body around the Professor and is stroking his Daddy’s hair, mimicking the comforting touch he remembers from the times when he’s been the one sick in bed.

“I can see his face in your head.” Max looks up at Sean, brilliant blue eyes so like Charles’. “He left.”

Sean sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed and ruffles Max’s short, brown hair. “I think this is a conversation you should have with your Dad when he’s feeling better.” 

He checks the Prof’s I.V. and takes his temperature, adjusting his blankets slightly before gently pulling Max into his arms. “Come on. We should let your Daddy rest so he can get better. I’ll take you back to bed.”

Sean carries Max back to his room next door and tucks the boy under the covers. He’s about to leave when he feels Max’s hand slide into his own, pulling him back down onto the bed. “Will you tell me about my father?”

_Your father is passionate. Fierce. Brave._

_Your father is angry. Ungrateful. Damaged._

He doesn’t think he clamped down fast enough to stop Max from reading his thoughts but the boy’s expression doesn’t change and he shows no outward signs that he’s heard any of Sean's musings. He reinforces his shields like the Professor taught him, and then shifts to sit next to Max on the bed.

“Your father, he's like us. And he has the the most amazing control over metal.”

***

It’s early in the morning and Alex is the first one up so he makes his way to the kitchen to start breakfast. Usually Mrs. Bradley takes care of meals but this is a good distraction. He’s been feeling restless and unsettled since the Professor was hit with this latest bout of pneumonia.

Even with Hank’s meticulous monitoring and diet plans, Charles health has never fully recovered from his pregnancy and Max’s delivery. Alex doesn’t know how the Professor is able to do so much - over the years he’s watched Charles work tirelessly; raising Max, recruiting and running the school, supporting and coaching and helping all of them control and improve their powers. He’s done his best to step up and assume more responsibility but he knows that they all still rely too much on the Prof. He wonders if he will ever be able to repay Charles for his trust and his kindness.

_“Alex...I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you but...it’s about the baby.”_

_They’re in the study and Charles rolls himself around his desk until he’s next to Alex sitting on the couch. He’s very close to his delivery date now, his cardigan stretched taut across his stomach._

_“Professor, you know we'll all do whatever we can to help you.”_

_Charles rubs his temple and sighs. “We know this pregnancy is high risk and there's a very good chance that I won't make it.” He raises a hand to stop Alex before he can interrupt. “I want you and Hank to be the baby’s guardians if anything happens to me.”_

_“Well Hank yes, but me? Why? I mean, I would be honored but with my past and my control issues...”_

_Charles smiles; warm, comforting. “I've watched you grow so much in the last 7 months, Alex. You are a passionate, loyal, dedicated young man. I have faith in you to make the right decisions for my son if I’m not around to raise him.” His smile wavers slightly and Alex thinks he would do just about anything in the world to make things better for his mentor and friend. “Erik has made it obvious that he has no interest in our son. And he and Raven are living lives and making choices I can’t condone or support. I don’t want Max to grow up thinking violence is the only way, and that we_ have _to wage war on humans to make a world safe for mutants. I trust you and Hank to teach him the importance of understanding and compassion.”_

_Alex has to suppress the anger that still roils underneath the surface whenever he thinks about Er- Magneto and that day on the beach. The fact that he chooses not to have anything to do with Charles and the baby just makes Alex angrier; there are days when he wants nothing more than to shoot a plasma blast at his smug, helmet wearing face. He reins in his thoughts and nods in agreement. “I swear if anything does happen, Hank and I will raise the baby and love him. We’ll protect him with our lives.”_

_“Thank you Alex.” Charles looks a bit lighter and Alex can practically see the weight lifting off the Prof’s shoulders. He smiles._

He turns when he hears the sound of bare feet shuffling on the kitchen floor; Max is in his blue striped pajamas and rubbing his eyes. “Hey buddy, do you want some pancakes?”

The 7 year old beams at him. “Did you make them with chocolate chips?”

Alex laughs and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “For you Max, always.”

***

Hank is in the lab, looking over the Professor’s charts when Max wanders in. The boy is a frequent visitor, already brilliant and so like Charles, with a natural curiosity and affinity for all things science. He loves all his uncles of course but it’s Hank that he relates to the most.

“Hey Max, what brings you down here today?”

“When is Daddy going to get better?”

_“He’s bleeding out!”_

_“Damn it Charles, you need to hang on!”_

_“You stop the bleeding and I’ll stabilize his blood pressure!”_

_“God we’re losing him!”_

He wishes he had an answer for Max; they’re all more than a little worried about the Professor. Hank remembers the delivery – it was a harrowing experience for all involved and even with an obstetrician on hand they had so very nearly lost Charles. They had known there would be risks to the Professor’s long term health from carrying the baby to term but there was no way to predict the side effects that would stem from a previously unknown mutation. 

“He’s getting better every day Max. He needs rest and fluids and I’ve given him medicine to help him fight the pneumonia. The Professor will probably be awake more often in the next day or so.”

Hank watches as the boy scrambles onto a stool, putting him at almost eye level with the older man. The scowl on Max’s face reminds him a lot of Erik, and how he looks more and more like his father every day.

Max leans forward and whispers in Hank’s ear. “I’ve been hearing Daddy’s thoughts.”

He's not surprised; the drugs in Charles’ system were designed to knock him out for a few days so he can properly rest and recuperate. His relatively untethered mind must feel a touch overwhelming for a young telepath still learning his powers. “That’s expected. Your Daddy’s sick and in a very deep sleep. He's bound to project under those circumstances.”

The eyes looking up at him are large, cerulean blue like the ocean and so very sad...reminiscent of the Professor’s oft-too weary gaze in the days after Cuba. It’s still somewhat rare these days to see the old mischievous sparkle in Charles’ eyes; Max and the other children the only ones able to bring a truly carefree and genuine smile to his face.

“Hank, he’s leaking feelings. He’s so very sad and lonely even though he’s happy he has me and everyone here. But he calls out in his head, over and over, for Erik and Raven. And his feelings don’t make sense. Because there’s a lot of love, and he misses them sooo much but then he’s angry too and very, very hurt.” Max reaches out to hug Hank tightly. “Most of all he just wants to see them again. He just keeps calling for them to come home.”

It makes Hank’s heart break for both the Professor and for the little boy in front of him who just wants to make things better. “Your Daddy’s relationships with Erik and Raven are complicated which is why you’re sensing emotions that don’t make a lot of sense to you. I’m afraid the situation isn’t something we can easily change.”

He lifts Max off the stool and pats his head. “You should go upstairs and see if Mrs. Bradley still has any of those cookies she made yesterday. And don’t worry too much. I promise the Professor will be up and about soon enough and then things will go back to normal.”

***

Max can hear Hank’s thoughts as he walks out of the lab towards the stairs. 

_“Wish I could help. Been so long...still missing them. Don’t know where they are. Could find them...Cerebro...Prof wouldn’t want...”_

He thinks about all the things he’s seen and heard from inside everyone's heads. They don’t all make sense to him but he knows enough to put some of the pieces together. Erik is his other parent; Daddy has spoken of him before and he knows he’s a mutant too. That he’s very strong and smart and can move metal. 

He doesn’t know why his father and his aunt Raven don’t live at the mansion anymore; only that something big happened and they left and never came back. But he doesn’t really care – he’s only interested in making Daddy feel better. And Daddy really misses them and wants them to come home. So Max is going to bring them home.

He pushes the special code to the elevator and makes his way down to Cerebro.


	2. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max reaches out to his Aunt Raven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thanks for the amazing response! I'm so excited...this is my first XMFC fill :) 
> 
> A shorter chapter but I promise, Erik is coming up next!

Later, she’ll wonder if it’s fate or irony that she’s having her first cup of tea in ages when she feels the feather light touch of someone inside her mind. 

It’s an odd sensation; warm and gentle like a sunny day but a bit wild and uncontrolled. It’s alarming to have a telepath rifling through her head, and not because she feels any particular threat or malice; rather it reminds her a bit uncomfortably of...

 _“Who is this?”_ she thinks at the presence in her head. It takes a moment to remember how to focus in order to project the thoughts clearly.

The voice that comes back is young, slightly accented and breathless with wonder and excitement. _“I did it! I can’t believe I found you!”_

 _“Do I know you?”_ Her response is sharper than she intends and she gets a wince and a slight hesitation from the intruder before there’s a response. 

_“My name is Max. And you’re my Aunt Raven.”_

She stands and walks from the kitchen table to the open window - hearing - but not really understanding the words. _“I don’t know anyone named Max. And I’m not anybody’s aunt. You’ve got the wrong person.”_

_“I know you’re my Aunt Raven. I can tell. Your mind is just like how Daddy remembers it. That’s how I was able to find you.”_

Her hand shakes, and the tea sloshes over the side of the cup as she leans abruptly against the counter for support. She stares at flowered pattern around the porcelain rim as she sets it down gently, and then slowly takes a deep breath. _“Who is your Daddy, Max? And where are you?”_

A little confusion, and then, _“My Daddy is Daddy...though the others call him Prof. or Professor. But his name is Charles. And I’m at home.”_

She has a nephew. Charles has a son. How? How had they not known? Why is he looking for her now? Where is Charles?

The voice answers her, _“Daddy is really sick and I can hear him calling for you in his head when he’s sleeping. He misses you so much. Will you come home and see him?”_

She’s overwhelmed with a flurry of mixed emotions. Longing to see Charles. Guilt at not knowing he has a son. Sadness that their relationship has become so strained. Anger still at Charles for holding her back, for his unwillingness to understand what she needed.

_“Is Charles alright? If he’s sick he needs a doctor, not me.”_

_“Hank is taking care of Daddy but this is the sickest he’s ever been and he’s sick a lot. Won’t you please come and see him? He keeps asking for you and for Erik.”_

She sighs, then turns around and sits at the table again. _“If Charles missed us he would have contacted us himself Max. I don’t think he really wants us to come.”_

There’s silence. And then she’s hit with a bunch of memories and emotions all at once.

_Noise in the kitchen. Not mother. Girl. Beautiful. Blue. Amazing. Joy. Not alone._

_Running. Running. Laughing. Raven outside in the sunshine. Love. Love._

_Lounging on the couch. Reading. Raven close. Safe. Always safe. Love. Protect her._

_Raven in the kitchen. Hurt. Bewildered. Beautiful. Always love._

The images stop as quickly as they begin, and it takes her a few moments to realize that her face is wet from tears streaming down her cheeks. Max’s voice sounds shy and a little apologetic in her head when he says _“Sorry. Daddy says I sometimes push too much too fast. Aunt Raven, I_ know _he misses you. Won’t you please come home?”_

She takes another deep, shuddering breath to calm herself before she sends her answer. _“Okay Max. I’m come as soon as I can.”_

There’s a sudden burst of joy so bright and affectionate that she can't help but laugh out loud. _“Oh thank you Aunt Raven! I know Daddy's going to be so happy to see you.”_

_“Alright. I need to make some arrangements now so you should go. I’ll see you soon.”_

_“Wait!”_ A burst of anxiety. Longing. Curiosity. _“Will you bring my father too?”_

Silence. _“I don’t understand Max. You said your Daddy was home sick. Why would I be bringing him with me?”_

Nervousness. Impatience. _“No. I mean my father, not Daddy. I can’t find him anywhere. Do you know where he is?”_

She thinks this is by far the strangest, most surreal conversation she’s ever had...and in her line of work, she’s had many. _“You have a Daddy...and a father? What’s your father’s name Max?”_

The name and the image of a smiling face floats into her head at the same time. It’s a face she knows exceptionally well, but the look of love and wonder isn’t something she’s ever seen herself. _“Erik. Erik Lehnsherr. Is he with you? You left together. Will you tell him to come too?”_

It’s a good thing she’s sitting down since her legs feel a bit like jelly. _“How? Erik and Charles are men. How can they both be your fathers? Who’s your mother?”_

_Charles, in a wheelchair, belly large, unmistakable._

_Charles, on a bed. Unconscious. Blood. Shouting._

_Charles, holding a baby. “Your name is Max. I named you after your other father.”_

_“Please Aunt Raven. Daddy misses him too. Can you tell him to come?”_

She puts her head in her hands, elbows on the table, trying to absorb this information.

This is not going to go well. Not well at all.

_“Yes Max. I’ll tell him.”_


	3. Erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magneto meets his son. Max is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your interest in this story! I hope you like this new chapter from Erik's POV. A confrontation with Charles is coming very soon.

_“Lies.”_

_“Charles wouldn’t lie. Not about something like this.”_

_“It wasn’t Charles that contacted you. An imposter. Someone posing as Charles’ son.”_

_“And your son.”_

_“Impossible. Preposterous.”_

_“I know what I felt Magneto. Those were Charles’ memories.”_

_“Someone could have taken them from him while he was incapacitated. Use this farce as a way to trap us.”_

_“How many telepaths have we met in the last eight years? Less than a handful including Frost and Charles. There isn’t anyone out there more powerful than my brother.”_

_“There’s always the possibility someone like that exists and we just haven’t met them yet. And why are you being so trusting? You’re usually the first of us to urge caution.”_

_“I’m blue. You can fly. Is it really so difficult to believe Charles gave birth to a son?”_

_“No! That’s not...if he was mine Charles wouldn’t...he would have told me.”_

_“Well we won’t know the truth unless we go see them will we?”_

“Magneto.”

The voice breaks him out of his reverie. He’s apparently been standing outside the mansion, staring at the front door. “I’m fine. I just...need a minute.”

Mystique turns to look at him, her usual inscrutable expression firmly in place. “Come. They know we’re here. You’ll get your answers inside.”

The door opens a crack before he has a chance to answer, a mop of dark hair peeking out followed by a scream of excitement. “You’re here! I felt you outside! Aunt Raven it’s really you!”

He watches as Mystique crouches down to catch the boy as he flings both arms around her. “Hello Max.” Her voice is warmer and softer than he’s heard in years. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Max pulls back and grins, before looking up to take in the imposing man looming in front of him. His expression is curious and a little puzzled, wide blue eyes bright and discerning.

_Beautiful. He has Charles’ eyes._

He watches as the boy pulls Mystique inside the mansion where Havoc and Beast are waiting, seemingly relaxed but very obviously on guard.

“Havoc. Beast.” Mystique’s smile is cautious, wary.

Beast answers in a welcoming tone. “Mystique. Magneto.” Havoc says nothing, though his eyes dart back and forth between him and Max.

“You knew we were coming.”

Havoc’s expression is coolly neutral as he answers, though he smiles when he looks over at the boy. “Max told us afterwards that he used Cerebro to look for Erik and Raven and to bring them home to see Charles.”

Mystique looks impressed. “I wondered how you were able to reach me, especially when you said you were at home.” She turns to Beast and asks, “Isn’t he a little young to be using Cerebro?”

Max looks sheepish as the older man laughs. “He didn’t actually have permission to use it. He swiped the elevator code out of my head, then rigged a remote on-switch to activate Cerebro from the center platform. And he set a timer so that the machine would automatically shut down every half hour.”

Magneto looks between the two men, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did he...”

They both answer in unison, “Genius.”

There are amused chuckles from the others as he continues to stare at Max. Charles has a son. A seven year old, telepathic genius. A beautiful, perfect boy with Charles’ eyes, Charles’ smile, Charles’ brilliant mind. Who sounds every bit like Charles when he speaks, confident and poised with the hint of an accent.

He’s unmistakeably Charles’.

It’s also like looking into a mirror and seeing his own 7 year old self reflected back at him.

Max is unmistakeably his.

He finds it a bit hard to breathe.

The boy is staring at him too, head slightly tilted as though he’s trying to figure something out. He steps in front of Magneto and holds out his hand. “Mr. Magneto. It’s nice to meet you.”

He reaches to shake the Max’s hand, a wry smile on his face. “Likewise.”

Max turns to Mystique next and smiles. “Were you able to find my father, Aunt Raven? Is he going to come too?”

Havoc snorts in amusement even as Mystique looks confused. “I did bring your father, Max.” She points to him and explains, “This is Erik Lehnsherr.”

Now it’s the boy’s turn to look confused. He steps closer and stands on his toes to get a better look at Magneto’s face. “You don’t look like my father.”

He scowls at Havoc who is bursting with laughter. “I assure you. I _am_ Erik Lehnsherr.”

Max shakes his head and insists, “I know what my father looks like from Daddy’s memories. You don’t look like him at all. You’re wearing a cape and a helmet. My father doesn’t have a helmet. He wears turtlenecks and sweatshirts and sometimes no shirt...”

“Max!” Beast interrupts. He crouches down in front of the boy and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know this may be confusing but people can change the way they look enough that they’re hard to recognize. Trust me and Alex. This is Erik. He’s your father.”

He still doesn’t look convinced. “I can’t feel you with my head.” He looks at Mystique. “I could tell it was you right away when I found you, Aunt Raven. Your mind is just like Daddy remembers it.” He turns back to Magneto. “You don’t feel like Erik from my Daddy’s head. I can’t feel anything from you at all.”

Beast looks uncomfortable, while Havoc just laughs again, mirthless and low. “Yes Magneto. Why don’t you explain to the _telepath_ why he can’t read your mind.”

They’re interrupted by what he assumes to be a message from Charles – the two men and Max all stand still at the same time, heads turning to look up towards the second floor. “Daddy says it’s past my bed time. And that you should stay tonight and then we can all talk in the morning.” Max turns his big blue eyes on Mystique. “You’ll stay won’t you? You’re not planning to leave? You have to see Daddy, though not right now because he’s still very tired from the pneumonia.”

“Come Max.” Havoc picks him up easily and tosses him over his shoulder. “Say goodnight.”

“Good night Aunt Raven! Good night Fa-, Mr. Erik!”

Beast sighs, rubbing his face with a furry hand. “Let me show you to your guest rooms.”

“I need to see Charles. Now.”

A low growl, followed by a look of annoyance. “The Professor has been heavily medicated for the last three days. He’s just coming out of the worst of it and he needs rest. Anything you have to say to him you can say after he’s had a good night’s sleep.” He turns and heads towards the stairs, expecting the other two to follow. “You’ve waited eight damn years what’s one more night.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.” He’ll give Charles until the morning and then he’s going to demand some answers. Like why his son’s existence has been kept from him all these years.

Yes, they’re going to have a good long talk in the morning.


	4. Erik vs Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik vs. Charles, round 1. They each learn the truth about what happened. And Erik should really learn to say what he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dialogue heavy; Charles and Erik had a lot to say. I hope this meets your expectations and let me know what you think!

Sleep eludes Magneto that night.

The immaculate, impersonal guest room he’s been given in the East wing is warm and comfortable. It’s one of the nicest rooms he’s ever stayed in; with a lifetime of running - chasing Schmidt after the war, his days with the Brotherhood - he’s certainly no stranger to nights in draughty warehouses, stolen cars and empty fields under the stars. Surprising then that he finds it suffocating, almost intolerable here, the other side of the mansion and a million miles from Charles and his son.

Their son.

He’s filled with so many mixed emotions that he can hardly stand to breathe. His beautiful, brilliant Charles has given him a family, a word that represents everything he ever wanted and nothing he could ever have. There is no way to describe his joy or his relief; the surge of hope and wonder and love when he saw Max for the first time and realized that his parents would live on in this sweet, precocious boy.

All of it, his need, the dangerous longing, his love _(for Charles, always for Charles)_ is buried deep; the mantle of Magneto wrapped tightly around the core of him like layers upon layers of armor and steel. It’s been a long time since he’s felt the strength of his conviction waiver, as if Erik Lehnsherr, the man he used to be _(the man Charles loved, wanted)_ is fighting tooth and nail to get out.

There’s guilt here, that he’s missed out on so much of Max’s life. There’s also regret that he didn’t find out much sooner about his son. And underneath it all there is anger; fierce and bright and growing harsher by the minute as he wonders how Charles – _his_ Charles – could lie to him for all these years. Keep him away from Max and make him a veritable stranger to his own flesh and blood.

He can think of nothing that could make Charles so heartless and cruel.

He can think of everything that would make him deserve it.

_Lights dim. Fire crackling, warm. A game of chess._

_“He has to be stopped.”_

_“I'm not going to stop Shaw. I'm going to kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?”_

_“You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed.”_

_Skin, pale in the moonlight. Eyes bright. Bodies moving, flushed. A hitch of breath._

_“Charles...Charles...I love you.”_

_“Erik. Please...please.”_

_Sun. Sand. Gunshots. Eyes bluer than the sky, the sea. A tear. Agony._

_“Us turning on each other, it’s what they want. I tried to warn you Charles.”_

_“I want you by my side. We're brothers you and I. All of us together, protecting each other. We want the same thing.”_

_“My friend. I'm sorry, but we do not.”_

He does not sleep at all.

***

The mansion is eerily quiet in the early morning hours, still too dark outside for any light to illuminate the long, empty corridors. He makes his way down to the kitchen to sit. And to wait.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

His control, his awareness of the metal around him has grown substantially since his stay at the mansion years ago. Now he can reach out and feel the gentle hum of everything from the nails in the roof to the reinforced walls of Cerebro.

He can feel the chair rolling down the wide, wooden corridors in the West wing towards the elevator. Follow with his senses as it moves down to the first floor and then turn towards the kitchen. He stands and heads over to the stove, putting hot water in the kettle to make tea.

“Good morning, Erik.”

He turns slowly, half terrified and half elated to see Charles again after so many years. “Good morning Charles. Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you, my friend.” Charles is still (always) beautiful to behold, looking a bit tired but calm and composed. His eyes are sharp and discerning, lacking the perpetual warmth that used to be all for him. Only for him.

There is silence as Charles rolls over to the table and waits as he finishes making the tea. They sit across the table and stare at everything but one another as they each take a sip from their cups.

“I appreciate you coming all this way at Max’s request. I’m afraid he misunderstood what he picked up from my projections, and took it upon himself to make my wishes come true.” Charles laughs, but it’s not a particularly happy sound. “He’s wonderfully bright but he’s still too young to understand...that things are often much more complicated than they seem.”

“It’s fine.” He can’t keep the anger and hurt from his voice as he answers, “I think it’s about time I got to know him don’t you think, Charles?”

A mildly surprised look crosses Charles’ face before it quickly slips back into a neutral mask. “Of course. I just assumed you came now because you'd been unintentionally misled about the severity of my illness. I assure you I’ll be fine. And Max will be as well.”

He sets his cup on the table and glares at the man sitting so serenely in front of him. “Were you _ever_ going to tell me about him? If he hadn’t reached out to Mystique on his own would you have kept Max from me forever, Charles?”

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand. Why would you say that I was keeping Max from you?”

His temper flares despite himself. “You didn’t think I had a right to know we had a son? That I would want to know him? How dare you keep me away because you hated me!”

Charles levels a glare in return and snaps, “Erik, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I sent you a letter as soon as I found out I was pregnant, which was a bit of a shock as you can imagine. I sent you over a _dozen_ letters during the pregnancy and after Max was born. Did you not get any of them?”

There is utter shock as he remembers the letters, along with an icy cold realization when it hits him.

Charles sees the look of horror on his face and his lips purse into a tight frown. “You didn’t read them.”

He had read the first letter Charles sent, to a mailbox location Mystique set up for Charles and Hank to reach her in case of an emergency. After he read it, it had taken him a full day before he could bear to come out of his room. Another week before he quashed the urge to drop everything and return to Charles.

“I read the first one. It didn’t...”

“No,” Charles says, looking embarrassed and refusing to meet Erik's eyes. “I didn’t know about the baby until after I sent the first letter. When I sent it I had hoped...” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I _did_ tell you. That you didn’t bother to read my letters is not my issue. When I didn’t hear back from you I took it to mean that you weren’t interested in having anything to do with Max. Or perhaps if I was being generous, that you felt it best to stay away for his safety.”

He’s stunned. How could Charles believe he didn’t want anything to do with their son? “You could have tried to reach me some other way! Sent one of the boys to look for me! And what about all these years? You didn’t think to contact me at any time in the last seven years? It didn’t occur to you _once_ that maybe I didn’t know?”

“Erik.” The hard look Charles levels at him is nothing he’s ever seen before on his ex-lover's face. “I’ve spoken with you less than half a dozen times since Cuba. Twice it’s been across battle lines and I hardly think that’s an appropriate time to discuss such personal matters.” He takes another sip of his tea and continues, “You left. I tried to reach you. You never responded. I could only interpret your actions in one way.” He raises an eyebrow and gives the other man a wry smile. “It’s not as though I could read your mind now could I?”

“No.” He can’t believe it. Won’t believe it. “If you wanted me to know, to see my son you would have found a way.”

And now he can see that Charles is angry. The calm demeanor has been ripped away and his eyes are full of steel and fire. “Do you think Erik, that you are the only one with any pride? Or did you assume I lost it along with the use of my legs?” He’s too shocked to interrupt as Charles plows ahead. “You’re right, maybe I could have tried harder to contact you. And then what? To have you tell me to my face what I already knew? That your beliefs, your _cause_  was more important than me or our son? I hardly needed to deal with _that_ on top of my paralysis, and a surprise mutation I didn’t know I had.”

Their voices are low, but the tension is heavy enough to explode in the empty kitchen. They remain in a heated standoff, neither backing down until finally, Erik breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Charles relaxes slightly in his chair but doesn’t respond. He watches and waits, unmoved at the words that follow.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you found out about Max. That I wasn’t there when you gave birth to our son. I’m sorry I ever made you think it was easy to leave you. I’m sorry for making you regret letting me in your life.”

“No Erik, I don’t regret that. Not even after everything that’s happened.” Charles reaches to place a warm hand over his own. “I could never be sorry for being with you, or for having Max. He’s the most precious gift I could have ever received and I look at him every day and think of what an amazing man he’s going to become.” He pulls away and rests his hands in his lap. “If you wish, you can stay a while and get to know him before making any decisions. Think about what part you want to have in his life, if at all.”

“I’m his father. I want to be in his life, I don’t need to think about it.”

Charles lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not trying to keep you from Max. But there are a lot of things to consider. And I have conditions you’ll want to think about regarding the time you spend with Max.”

He looks up sharply, eyes narrowing at Charles' statement. “Conditions?”

“You will not take him off the property. If you want to see him you must come to the mansion. You will leave your Brotherhood and all its dealings behind while you’re here; I will not have your enemies follow you to my School. You will be addressed as Erik or Mr. Lehnsherr and not Magneto – it’s confusing for the children and for Max.” Charles takes another sip of his tea. “And you will not wear your helmet around our son.”

“I don’t want him to see my memories of Shaw. Other things I’ve done...no.”

“It’s not up for debate,” Charles snaps. “Your infernal helmet will give him a headache if he’s exposed to it for any length of time. He’s too young yet to properly shield and the psionic void around your mind will hurt him. Besides, I will not have you teach my son to be ashamed of his gift; that telepathy is to be protected against, to be feared.”

“That’s not...”

“Save it. This is not negotiable. However, I will make you the same promise I made to Raven. I will not read your mind or attempt to control you while you are a guest here in my home. You don’t need to be concerned with Max. He can read your projections and surface thoughts easily, and he’s also quite adept at reading emotions. However, he lacks control and won’t be able to read anything deeper unless he concentrates for an extended period of time. I’m sure Ms. Frost taught you how to shield without the helmet. You’ll be fine.”

Charles places the empty cup in his lap and rolls over to the counter, setting it in the sink before heading towards the door to exit the kitchen. “I realize that you find it difficult to trust me without your helmet to protect you, but I assure you I have no interest in influencing you. You have my word that I won’t use my telepathy against you in any way, unless you give me a reason to do so by harming anyone under my protection.” He levels an even look behind him before rolling away, “Think about it.”

Erik gets up from the table and places his own cup in the sink. He rubs his face with his hand, before turning to exit in the opposite direction.


	5. Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles remembers. And Alex has strong opinions about Erik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Charles' POV; I hope it's not too boring. We'll come back to Erik/Max soon.

_He wakes to the feeling of something warm and wet on his cheek._

_A soft shuddering breath. A calloused hand cradling his face._

_A whispered confession. “Oh Charles...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Charles what have I done?”_

_Charles opens his eyes, squinting slightly, voice hoarse. “Erik.”_

_Erik’s face slowly comes into focus above him and he leans unconsciously into the hand stroking his face. “I came as soon as I found out. I don’t...I did this to you.”_

_“You didn’t mean to hurt me.”_

_“Oh Gott. Charles, they told me...your legs...”_

***

_“My friend, it was an accident. I forgive you.”_

_“I don’t deserve your forgiveness Charles. I never deserved_ you _.”_

_***_

_“Let me take care of you. I’ll stay until you get better.”_

_“And then you’ll leave.”_

_“Charles...”_

_“You’re really going to do this? You really want to spend the rest of your life running? Fighting? Killing humans because you think they’ll come after you?”_

_“They_ will _come after us. All of us. They will never accept those who are different, more powerful. They fear us and they’ll do everything they can to destroy us.”_

 _“Then we have to teach them not to be afraid! That we can use our powers for the betterment of mutants_ and _humans! Attacking them, provoking them will only reinforce their fear of us! Force them to hunt us down to protect themselves!”_

_“I love you. That doesn’t mean I have to agree with you Charles.”_

_“Please Erik. Don’t do this. It’s not too late.”_

_“ I’m doing this to protect you, since you refuse to protect yourself.”_

_“I don’t need your protection Erik! I need you to listen to what I’m saying!”_

_***_

_“You should go.”_

_“I want to stay. I love you Charles. Let me take care of you.”_

_“No. I can’t bear to have you here for a little while only to have you leave me again. You need to go. Now.”_

 

“Professor.”

Charles is lost in thought, looking quietly out the window in his office when Alex wanders in.

“Hello Alex,” he says, turning to face his friend who is eyeing him with undisguised concern. “You’re up early this morning.”

He wheels himself around and pretends to shuffle some papers as Alex sits in the chair in front of the massive oak desk. “I went to check on you but you weren’t in your room.”

“I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I came down here to catch up on some paperwork.”

Alex sighs. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything? Tea? Your medication?”

“No I’m fine really, thank you.”

“How did it go with Magneto?”

He’s not surprised at Alex’s question; over the years, the brash, angry young man they recruited from prison has become his close friend and confidant. He is both insightful and direct, and the years haven’t completely taken away his edge.

“As well as one can expect, given the circumstances. We were able to sort out a misunderstanding.”

Alex snorts. “What, he forgot where the mansion was located for eight years?”

Charles allows himself a slight smile. “No. It turns out he didn’t know about Max.” He continues before the other man can ask, “He didn’t read any of my letters.”

“And I suppose he thinks that we all conspired to keep him from Max, and demanded to know how we could do such a thing. Stupid, self important ass.”

He smoothes the pile of papers on his desk, running his hand absently across the pages. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is he that he knows about Max now and he wants to be a part of our son’s life. I’ve given him some conditions to being around Max and he’s thinking them over now.”

"What conditions?"

"Things that have to do with Max's safety, and about his dealings with the Brotherhood. But most importantly that he can't wear his helmet around our son."

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'm sure he's taking that well."

“Look Charles,” Alex continues, leaning forward and taking the professor’s hand with his own. “Max doesn’t need him. _You_ don’t need him. He’s going to play at being a parent until the novelty wears off and then he’ll run away again. And it’s going to break Max’s heart to have his father in his life for a little while only to have to watch him leave.”

Charles knows in his heart that his friend is probably not that far off the mark.

“It’s not about me or Erik.” He squeezes Alex’s hand and then pulls away, wheeling himself back towards the bay window overlooking the garden. “This is about what’s best for Max. He deserves a chance to know his father.”

Alex shakes his head and snarls, “He should have just stayed the hell away.”

“This situation was always going to come to a head,” Charles answers, turning to look at Alex with a sad smile. “Either Max would realize that he had a father who knew he existed but didn’t want to see him, or that he had a father who would occasionally come into his life and then always choose to leave him behind.” He’s exhausted and his voice breaks slightly at his next words. “Either way the best we can do is to love him through this and make sure he understands that it’s not his fault when Erik leaves.”

“You don’t think he’ll stay.”

“Do you?”

Alex gets up and walks over to stand behind Charles chair. He squeezes the Prof’s shoulder lightly before turning to leave. “No, I really don’t.”


	6. Erik, Max, Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first letter from Charles. Max and Erik have a chat. Alex reveals some truths to Erik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading and for your comments they're very much appreciated! I hope you like the little revelations in this chapter. We come back to Raven soon for her meeting with Charles.

He walks the grounds of the mansion, the air crisp and cool this mid-September morning. His feet takes him along winding paths and familiar landmarks; the rose garden, the gravel path, the stone railing overlooking fields of rolling green. It’s a little like stepping back in time, everything looking exactly as he remembers. Yesterday and a life time ago, a few short months of happiness and love he hadn’t known since before his parents died.

Erik places little value in most of the things he’s owned in his life, much of it easily left behind as he drifts from place to place, city to city. There have only ever been a few exceptions.

A silver coin. A reminder of his life’s goal for vengeance against the monster who murdered his mother and stole his childhood. Lost in the wreckage - like many other things forever lost that sunny day on the beach.

A white king. Taken from the chess set that travelled with them on their recruiting trip. It’s a piece of Charles he carries always; his soul, his moral compass.

Fourteen letters all written in Charles’ elegant script, in a safety deposit box with his emergency funds and fake IDs. One opened, well read and creased; thirteen pristine and still sealed. He’d received the first letter only two months after their split; Mystique handing it to him one day with a look of trepidation and longing. He’s read it many times over the years; the passage memorized but the words on the page an anchor through days and nights of loneliness and heartache.

_My dearest Erik,_

_I regret how we ended our last conversation; I should not have sent you away in anger and doubting my feelings for you. Meeting you has ever been the greatest joy of my life and I cherish our friendship and our bond more than I can ever tell you._

_It is my most fervent wish that you come home to me, my love. You must cease your crusade before I lose you once again to a life of fear and hatred. Have you not had enough of it already, in your pursuit of Shaw all those long years? Please, I ask you to reconsider and work with me to ensure peaceful co-existence with our human brothers and sisters._

_I love you Erik. I have loved you from the moment I touched your brilliant mind and dove into the frigid waters to bring you home. Know that my feelings for you will never change, though we find ourselves now at an impasse. The mansion will always be open to you and to Raven, whether you seek a temporary refuge or to return permanently. And I ask that you take care of my sister, for she is ever precious to me and beloved._

_Come home, please my darling. And if you will not, take care and be safe always._

_Yours,_

_Charles_

That first night he drank until he passed out, locked in his room, his mind in turmoil and his heart aching for Charles. And though he loved him with his whole being, he also knew that it was a weakness. If he returned now there would be no safety for their kind; Charles content to let the humans bide their time before they found ways to subjugate and destroy them all. 

He had to make the choice to be with Charles or to keep him safe; Erik knew ultimately that he would have to sacrifice a life with the man he loved for a world where they could all be free.

Would it have been different if he’d known about Max then? Could he have been content to protect his own family, at the expense of other mutant lives? Or would it have strengthened his resolve to fight, push him that much harder to ensure a safe future for their son?

Two hours later and he still has no answer.

***

He hears the soft crunch of steps behind him and turns to see Max approaching with a glass in one hand and a muffin in the other.

“Good morning Mr. Erik! Daddy says you missed breakfast so I brought you a banana muffin and orange juice.” The boy smiles and places the items on top of the stone railing where Erik is leaning. “Do you like bananas? I helped Mrs. Bradley make them yesterday.”

“I do like bananas, thank you Max.” He takes a drink of juice and a bite of the muffin. “Delicious.”

Max beams. “I’m glad you like it! It’s my favorite, though we ran out of chocolate chips so I didn’t get to add them in this time.” He moves closer and leans against the railing, mirroring Erik's pose before glancing shyly up at his father. “Can I ask you a question?”

Erik meets the boy’s gaze and answers seriously, “You can ask me anything and I promise to do my best to answer and to tell you the truth.”

“Are you happy to see Daddy?”

Of course. Of course his son’s first question would be something so easy and yet so difficult to answer. “Yes Max. I’m happy to see Charles.”

Max looks a bit nervous, and continues, “Okay. And don’t get mad...but I’m not sure he’s happy to see you.”

It’s not unexpected, but the admission still hurts like a knife in the gut. “I’m not mad. Charles and I sometimes don’t agree on things, and we can make each other very angry. But I’m glad to see that he’s feeling better...and I _have_ missed him very much.”

A relieved smile blossoms across Max’s face. “That’s good. When I saw Daddy this morning he was sad though he tried to hide it from me. I thought maybe you were upset I brought you and Aunt Raven here to see Daddy and that’s why he’s feeling sad.”

Erik is silent for a moment before he answers, “No. Charles and I haven’t seen each other for a long time. It’s hard to know what to say to each other I think. Or how to feel.” He lets out a huff of breath and gives Max a small smile. “I want you to know that I’m very glad to be here and I’d like the chance to get to know you better. Would that be alright?”

The dazzling smile he gets in return makes Erik’s heart clench with longing. “Could we all spend time together? You and me and Aunt Raven and Daddy? And Hank and Alex and Sean too? Oh! And you haven’t met Scott; he’s Alex’s younger brother but he’s older than me. And Ororo, did you know she can make the weather change? It’s really cool!”

He smiles. “We can do whatever you want, Max. I should probably go speak with your Aunt Raven and your Daddy again but after that we can spend some time together alright?”

“Okay.” Max moves to head back to the house, though he stops and turns around again before he’s taken more than a couple of steps. “You’re not going to make my Daddy sad again right? I brought you and Aunt Raven here to make him feel better and I don’t want him to get upset.”

Erik pats his head lightly, brushing a piece of unruly brown hair from Max’s eyes. “I promise to do my best not to upset him.” He smiles softly and adds, “You do a good job looking after Charles.”

Max shrugs. “I love Daddy and I want him to be happy. He works very hard running the school and he’s always tired and he gets sick a lot and Hank says it’s because he has a compromised immune system from having me. I didn’t know how much he missed you and Aunt Raven 'til he got sick this time, but it’s good that you’re back because now you can help me make him better!”

“I don’t...I don’t know if I can do that Max.” He watches as his son frowns at him, eyes narrowing as he continues hurriedly, “I can promise to do my best but things are...complicated.” He attempts to mollify the boy who’s glaring at him now, clearly unimpressed. “Let’s...okay, I’ll try alright?”

At that, Max's frown turns into a toothy grin, making him chuckle with relief. “Okay. I’m going to find Scott and the others and tell them they have to meet you!”

He watches until the boy disappears inside before turning back to his breakfast. It’s not more than a few seconds before he hears another set of steps behind him.

“You shouldn’t make Max promises you can’t keep, Magneto.”

“Alex, are you here to threaten me? Funny, I expected you a lot sooner.”

The blond man - no longer a boy – plants himself in Max’s spot next to Erik, looking out at the grounds of the estate. “Why are you still here? The Prof. told us you didn’t know about Max before, but now you do and you've satisfied your curiosity. You’d be doing them both a favor if you left now and never bothered them again.”

Erik levels an icy glare at Alex and asks, “Are you trying to keep me away from my son? You have no right to stop me from getting to know Max. You don’t get to make any decisions about him. What happens is between me and Charles.”

He’s a bit surprised by Alex’s even tone; frankly, he’d expected fireworks from the young man with the temper that had reminded him so much of his own. “You want to talk about _rights_ , Magneto? We love Max. We’ve all taken care of him since the day he was born. Hank delivered him; saved Charles who almost died giving birth to your son. I taught him how to ride a bike, and how to swim. Sean sings to him and tells him stories his parents used to tell _him_ as a kid. Hank stays up all night with Charles when Max is sick to monitor his vitals. _We_ are his family. What happens to Max and Charles matters to us, to me.” Alex turns to face him. “We both know you’re going to leave. You being here, getting Max’s hopes up that you’ll stay and be a big happy family with him is cruel. Not to mention what it’s doing to Charles having you here. For once in your life, think about somebody else’s needs.”

Erik scoffs. “So you think it’s better that I abandon him? That he wonders why I showed up one day only to disappear again? You think _that_ wouldn’t hurt Max?”

“No,” Alex answers, shaking his head with a sigh. “I know it would hurt Max. But everything about this situation will hurt Max. At least right now you’re a stranger he just met and he won’t really know what he’s missing. How do you think he’ll feel when you play at being his father until he gets attached, and _then_ you pick up and leave?” He watches as the expression on Alex's face hardens. “And Charles. Do you care how hard this must be for him? You walked out of his life eight years ago and you never looked back. You had something incredible, Magneto, and you threw it away for some crusade no one asked you to lead.”

He sneers, “Should I leave so you can take my place as Max’s father? Replace me in Charles’ life? Do you have a crush on your Professor, Alex? Or is the feeling mutual?”

“I don’t have a _crush_ on Charles; I _love_ him. And if he’d ever shown even the slightest indication that he wanted more than friendship I would have jumped at the chance to be with him.” Alex gives him a look that Erik thinks might be pity. “I would have been smart enough to hang on to the most amazing person in my life and not toss him away after I finished using him for my revenge plans.”

Alex shoves himself off the railing and turns towards the house. “I know you won’t listen; you've never listened to anyone but yourself. Just try not to break anyone this time before you leave.”

The words hang in the air as Alex’s steps fade away behind him. Erik calmly finishes his breakfast and doesn’t move for a long time.


	7. Raven, Hank, Sean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven gets reacquainted with Hank and Sean. Max and Raven have breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay; real life got in the way of writing this past week! This chapter was supposed to be Raven & Charles but then I ended up writing all this...and the chapter got ridiculously long. So Raven & Charles is next and then some family time for Charles, Erik and Max.
> 
> As always thanks for reading and for your comments!

The last time she walked the halls of the mansion at 1407 Graymalkin Lane, she was Raven Darkholme; Charles Xavier’s younger sister, not quite an adult, insecure and filled with righteous anger at the world for its inability to accept her for being different.

Well, she’s certainly an adult now, though it’s harder to know how much, if any, of the other parts of her have changed.

She’s spent the last eight years crafting _Mystique_ , a persona wrapped in layers of merciless efficiency and calculated indifference. As Magneto’s second in command, she is well-respected and feared by the other members of the Brotherhood. Most days, it’s more than enough.

It’s not until she’s back amongst the familiarity of elegant wood paneling and plush carpeting that she realizes the girl she used to be is still there, lurking just beneath the surface of her cool exterior.

Hank had shown her and Magneto to adjoining guest rooms in the east Wing, very noticeably away from the other residents on the opposite side of the mansion. It wasn’t a surprise really - she hasn’t been back here for eight years after all and she didn’t expect her old room next to Charles’ to still be unoccupied – but it had stung to be treated as a guest in her childhood home. Magneto had swept into his room and slammed the door, leaving Hank and Mystique to stand awkwardly in the hall.

_“Let me know if you need anything.”_

_“Thank you Beast. It’s good to see you.”_

_“It’s good to see you too. And please, I prefer Hank.”_

_She takes in the differences between the man standing in front of her now and the boy she remembers. Hank is still soft spoken and gentle but carries himself with far more confidence and apparent ease in his own skin. It’s a change she’s gratified to see._

_“Okay. I suppose you should call me Raven while I’m here. It’ll be less confusing for Max.”_

_Hank chuckles and rubs his eyes, “Max. I can’t believe he found you two on his own and actually convinced you to come here.”_

_She smiles and it’s genuine and fond. “He’s an amazing little guy. He reminds me so much of Charles when we were kids.” Raven steps closer to Hank and lowers her voice slightly, “How is he?”_

_The response is light hearted in tone, but she’s astute enough to hear the thread of concern running underneath. “Tired and a bit under nourished. The Professor’s been in and out the last few days but he’s recovering well from the pneumonia and should be back to his usual over-achieving, over-working self in no time.”_

_Her laugh is a little sharper than she intends. “Of course, still trying to prove to everyone he’s perfect and can do everything himself.” She levels a worried look at Hank and asks, “Max mentioned that Charles gets sick a lot? He was always very healthy and in good shape. Is it...” She sucks in a breath. “Does it have to do with his paralysis?”_

_“No, it actually has to do with his mutation. Although he was able to conceive and carry Max to term, his hormone levels fluctuated wildly throughout his pregnancy and he had a number of issues that weakened his body and his immune system.” Hank sighs and scratches the back of his neck absently. “We didn’t think he was going to make it. But he insisted on having the baby no matter what, and we almost did lose him when he delivered Max. After that, his health was never the same.”_

Charles had almost died. Had been pregnant and close to dying and she hadn’t known. Wouldn’t know now if Max hadn’t reached out and contacted her and convinced her to come home.

Before the CIA mission she had been so young, so naive. There were so many things she hadn’t known back then, didn’t understand. There have been many long, lonely nights where she wondered how things might have gone differently if she’d just understood.

That the way Charles had looked at her was love, not indifference or pity. It wasn’t the _desire_ that she craved from him for so long but it was love – and something she’s gone without for the past eight years.

That the kiss with Magneto, the night she crept into his bed wasn’t a prelude to more. That being interested in her mutation and encouraging her not to hide didn’t mean he wanted something else, that he wanted _her_.

That her brother and Erik – the incredible bond they shared, the instantaneous connection - didn’t just have a deep, abiding friendship. They had been in love and as it turns out, had produced a child together.

She’s proud of the things that she and the Brotherhood have accomplished over the years; rescuing mutants from confinement and torture, destroying “research” and government facilities intent on harming their kind. Protecting mutants from humans and their greed and fear; it’s a worthy cause she continues to believe in with her whole being.

She just wishes it hadn’t cost her the only person that ever loved her.

***

Breakfast at the mansion is a lot more chaotic than she remembers.

She wanders into the kitchen, intending to brew a perfect cup of tea for Charles like she used to do every morning at Oxford. Instead, she’s a little surprised to walk into a room filled with people she doesn’t recognize, over a dozen children and teens and adults all bustling about, chatting and eating breakfast. They barely give her a second glance, though she can tell that it’s not an attempt to ostracize; as strange as it seems they appear to be used to strangers with visible mutations, wandering around the mansion. An unexpected warmth blooms inside her at the domestic scene.

Max is sitting at the kitchen table, making his way through a heaping bowl of cereal when he spots her. “Aunt Raven! Good morning! Will you have some breakfast with me?”

“Good morning Max! Yes of course. Let me grab some food and I’ll sit with you.” She wanders over to the counter where an assortment of toast, baked goods and fresh fruit has been laid out. Filling her plate and pouring a cup of coffee, she makes her way over to Max who promptly stands and pulls out a chair.

Raven laughs. “Aren’t you a proper little gentleman?”

Max grins broadly at her as another hand reaches over to muss his hair. Sean has moved from helping one of the other boys spread jam on his toast to join in on their conversation. “I know right? The Prof insists, even if he’s surrounded by the bunch of us who don’t know the first thing about manners and etiquette.”

“Daddy says we should always be polite and to respect our elders.” Max waves his spoons excitedly, splashing milk on the table around him and winces. “Oops, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it little man.” Sean grabs a napkin to wipe up the mess and then turns to address Raven, “Did you sleep alright? If there’s anything you need during your stay just let me know. Mrs. Bradley and I are in charge of restocking the school’s supplies and general upkeep.”

She shakes her head but smiles at Sean’s offer. “Thanks but I have everything I need for now. The guest room is fine.” Max has returned to eating his cereal, though he’s watching the two adults talking with keen interest. “How many students do you have here?”

Sean sits a little straighter, looking around proudly at the group wandering in and out of the kitchen. “We’ve got over a dozen students now and five teachers including me, Alex and Hank. Not as many as the Prof wants but we’re getting there. And we’ve had both students and teachers come and go over the years so we’ve actually met quite a few more of us than the ones you see here.”

“We need more kids like me,” Max jumps in, waving his spoon again before Raven plucks it out of his hand. He grins at her sheepishly and continues, “Sorry. Anyway, there’s only Ororo that’s my age. Piotr and Scott and the others are all older than me and they say I’m too small to train with them.” He makes a face that Raven swears is Magneto at his most imperious, which makes her laughs out loud.

“I’m sorry, training?”

“All the kids get help learning their powers. They train to better control their gift with a program the Prof. tailors to each of them specifically.” He smiles at Max who is now drinking the milk straight out of his bowl. “Course Max here has the best training program out of all of us, being a telepath like Charles.”

That reminds her of the reason she came down to the kitchen in the first place. “Is Charles coming down for breakfast?”

“Daddy’s in his office; I saw him before I came here.” Max looks at Raven, his eyes a little less animated than before. “He didn’t say anything but I know he’s sad. I could tell he was thinking about Mr. Erik.”

Of course, Magneto probably stayed up all night, waiting for the chance to speak with her brother about Max. She knows both men well enough to know how the conversation went – both of them hiding behind their walls, saying everything and anything but what they wanted or needed to say to the other.

“Well, if he hasn’t had breakfast yet, what do you say we bring him something to eat and a nice, hot cup of tea?”

“Oh that’s a great idea!” Max jumps out of his seat and hugs her. “You haven’t seen Daddy yet! I’ll go get him some toast and fruit.” He’s about to run off but then stops and frowns. “But I’m not allowed to use the kettle by myself yet.”

Raven can feel her heart swelling with affection for her sweet, beautiful nephew. “It’s alright Max. I’ll get the tea.”

Max runs off excitedly, chattering with people as he passes them by on his way to gather breakfast. He’s a happy, well adjusted, brilliant little boy and knowing that Charles wasn’t alone – that he’s had Max to love all these years - helps just a little bit to ease the dull ache in her chest. She turns back to find Sean watching her with curiosity and she returns his gaze. “You don’t seem angry to see us here. Honestly it’s a bit surprising considering...”

“Considering you left with Magneto and stranded us on the beach for over six hours before Hank could repair the radio? That you didn’t come home even after you found out the Prof. was paralyzed? That we haven’t seen you more than a couple of times in eight years?” He shifts in his chair and takes a drink from his coffee mug. “I was never angry with anything you or Lehnsherr did to me. But I was plenty pissed off at how you’ve both treated the Prof.” He looks over at Max who is chatting animatedly with a middle aged woman who Raven assumes is the cook. “Charles has always said that you were both welcome back here any time. And Max is pretty happy to see you.” Then he turns back to Raven and the easy going manner is replaced by something hard and cutting. “I’ll treat you both with courtesy as long as Charles and Max want you here. If you do anything to hurt either of them...well then no more Mr. Nice Guy.”

Ironic that once upon a time it had been _her_ job to defend Charles; two lonely children in a mansion too big, the two of them against the world.

Max returns with a plate and a mug of tea before she can answer. “Mrs. Bradley made tea for Daddy. Can we go see him now?”

She smiles at Max and nods slightly at Sean to acknowledge his warning. “Yes, let’s go see Charles.”


	8. Raven & Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Charles have a long talk. There are apologies...and maybe a new beginning for the Xavier siblings.

It’s been three years since the last time she saw Charles; just a glimpse of him, sharp suit and steel edges, rolling away in the distance during one of the few times the Brotherhood and the X-Men have engaged in the field. He looks as handsome as ever, though his dark brown hair is now peppered with a bit of grey around the temples. Clad in an oversized cardigan, light blue dress shirt and tan slacks he looks almost exactly the same as she remembers.

Charles is in his office, seated in his chair by the window looking out over the rose garden. She glances over to the desk and sees papers strewn about in seemingly random piles, as though her brother had gotten distracted and stopped mid way through his attempt at paperwork. The rest of the room is a lot tidier than she remembers, books now neatly stacked in shelves and the floor is clear of any clutter. The most striking difference is the empty space behind the oak desk where his old leather chair used to sit.

His back is turned to them but Raven knows he’s well aware of them both; had known that she and Max were on their way since probably before they left the kitchen. He swivels his chair around to greet them as Max runs in and proceeds to climb onto his lap.

“Daddy, Daddy look! Aunt Raven and I brought you breakfast.”

“Yes I can see that Max.” He hugs the boy and drops a kiss on his forehead, before looking up to acknowledge Raven. “Thank you, both of you for thinking of me.”

She feels awkward and unsure, a part of her wanting to run and throw her arms around Charles like Max did, the other afraid of a deserved rejection. Her brother is looking at her, not warm and welcoming as he’s always been but with a look she’s seen him use on difficult CIA agents and arrogant university administrators; overly polite and emotionally distant.

“Is your room alright Raven? Did you sleep well?” Still unfailingly calm and accent so very English.

“Yes, it’s lovely thank you.” She places the breakfast tray on his desk and then offers him the tea. “Here, have this before it gets cold.”

Something flashes in his eyes before Charles closes himself off again, his expression as unreadable as ever. He takes the mug from her with one hand, shifting Max slightly so he can take a sip. He murmurs a soft thank you before turning to his son and asks, “Did you eat all your breakfast?”

The boy grins and taps Charles’ head lightly. “You know I ate all my breakfast silly! You know everything I do Daddy!”

Charles laughs, genuine and warm and lets Max wriggle off his lap. “Yes but it’s always nice to hear you tell me about your day, instead of just reading it from your mind.”

Max doesn’t answer, just grinning and making his way over to the window to press his nose against the glass. “Have you seen Mr. Erik anywhere, Daddy? I didn’t see him at breakfast this morning.”

Raven is watching Charles intently and doesn’t fail to see him flinch ever so slightly at Max’s words. She doubts anyone else would have noticed, but she knows her brother's tells quite well, and paying attention to people is an important skill she’s spent many years honing. “He’s outside by the stone railing, love. I think he’s been out walking the grounds and hasn’t had any breakfast yet. Why don’t you go bring him one of the muffins you and Mrs. Bradley made yesterday?”

“Okay, that’s a great idea!” He turns and sprints towards the door, almost out of the room before he stops to address Raven. “Will you make sure Daddy drinks his tea? And doesn’t do too much work? I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

Charles frowns at them both, though they can tell that he isn’t really upset. “Really Max. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

She tries not to smirk at the scene before her, with Charles bemused and indulgent and Max scowling, sharp blue eyes narrowed with an expression more appropriate on a surly teenager. “No! Hank says you have to rest a lot more before you’re back to normal. And Alex made me promise to keep you from doing any work on the weekend.”

“Fine, fine,” Charles replies, waving at Max who takes it as agreement to his demands. “I’ll just sit here and drink my tea and have a chat with your Aunt Raven alright?”

“Good.” Max smiles at them both and then heads out of the room. They sit and watch for a few moments before Raven gets up and shuts the door.

“You look well.” The air is rife with unspoken tension and Charles doesn’t look at her when he speaks, rolling over to rest in front of his desk and placing his mug on the tray.

“Thank you. So do you.”

She takes a seat in one of the chairs and turns it slightly to face him, neither of them speaking for what seems like an interminable amount of time. Finally, she approaches him, kneeling in front of her brother to take his hand. “Charles. I want you to read my mind.”

“Pardon?” Whatever he was expecting her to say, obviously this wasn’t it. “You want what?”

She squeezes his hand and says it again. “I want you to read my mind.”

He pulls his hand away from hers and shakes his head. “Why? Why now?”

Raven stays crouched in front of him, moving to place her hands on his knees instead. “There are things I want to tell you, Charles. Things I need to say. And I want you to know the truth. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings between us.”

He turns his sharp blue eyes on her, assessing her, thinking over her offer, trying to gauge whether he can trust the motive behind her sudden change of heart. Finally, he reaches a hand over one of hers and says simply, “Alright.”

Every telepath she’s ever encountered feels slightly different in her head. Emma Frost was every bit as hard and uncompromising as her diamond form; it was much later in their friendship before she allowed Raven to see that a softer side of her even existed. Max was like a gentle sunny day, warm and happy and maybe a little bit wild.

Charles reminds her of running water; sometimes a gentle, babbling brook lulling her to sleep, other times a torrent of waves capable of massive destruction. But she has only ever been amazed by her brother’s gift; never frightened of his immeasurable power.

More than anything it’s the thing that reminds Raven of  _home._

She almost staggers forward when Charles opens his mind to hers again after all these years; it’s been even longer than the eight years since they last lived together as brother and sister. He reaches to steady her and then helps her back into her chair where they sit in silence as she collects her thoughts.

“I’m sorry Charles.” She can tell he’s hearing her words as well as her meaning. That’s she genuine in what’s she saying to him but he doesn’t dive any further ahead, choosing to let her lead him through her thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, “for so many things. For not understanding you. That you loved me. That you didn’t think of me as charity, someone to pity. I’m sorry for blaming you for things that weren’t your fault. For not understanding how much you wanted to protect me.” She has to take a deep breath before she can continue, “I’m sorry for being so selfish and leaving you when you needed me the most. I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help you with Max. I’m sorry I ever made you feel that I didn’t love you. Because I do, Charles, so much.” She squeezes his hand again and wipes a stray tear from her face. “You’re my family.”

Charles hasn’t reacted to her words but she can tell from the look on his face that he hears and understands what she’s trying to say. The polite facade starts to crack a little as the warmth slowly returns to his gaze.

“Oh Raven.” His voice is softer now, edge and formality bleeding away as he reaches to brush the hair from her face. “I don’t think I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, looking sad and wistful. “How did this happen to us? You and I, we used to know everything about each other. I can’t believe you ever doubted that I loved you, that you were everything to me, not charity.”

Her hand is trembling at little but she has to get it all out, tell Charles everything. “I should never have asked you to stay out of my head.”

There’s no judgement in his tone, just curiosity. “Why did you? It didn’t bother you when we were kids. What changed? Was it something I did?”

“No!” She grabs both his hands and looks him straight in the eye. “It was all me. You were wonderful... a little hard to take sometimes...but the best brother I could have ever hoped for.” She smiles at him, self deprecating and a bit sad, and then drops his hands, pushing herself back in the chair. “I didn’t want you to know that I had feelings for you.”

“You had feelings...”

“I was _attracted_ to you Charles. You do understand the concept right?” She’s teasing him now and he doesn’t seem offended though his eyes go wide at the revelation. “I wanted you. Wanted you to want _me_. I watched you flirt with all those pretty, perfect girls and not once did you ever look at me that way. And I thought it was because you found me ugly. Because we loved each other right? And if I was attracted to you I didn’t understand why you couldn’t be attracted to me.”

Charles pulls her into his arms, hugging her close and it’s enough to make the tears fall. “Raven, you’re my sister. You’re my _family_. Just because I didn’t see you that way doesn’t mean that I find you unattractive. You’re incredibly beautiful and I’ve always thought so, since the very first day that I met you.”

She sniffs into his cardigan and laughs. “I know. Max, he showed me your memories when he contacted me with Cerebro.” Pulling back again she holds one of Charles’s hands and sighs. “There’s more. I want to tell you all of it.”

He looks at her, a bit concerned as she continues, “I didn’t know about you and Erik. Not until much later; about a year and a half after Cuba actually.”

“It was...” For a moment, Charles appears a little lost for words. “That was between the two of us and no one else.” He touches her hand gently, looking confused, “What does Erik have to do with what you’re telling me?”

“You have to know that I left because I didn’t want to hide anymore. I believed in Magneto’s cause, I still believe in him, that he'll fight for a world where we don’t have to be afraid of humans anymore.” Charles watches her, a thoughtful expression on his face as she explains, “But I thought...well it’s not the entire reason I left.”

She can feel his light touch in her head now, as she struggles to put her regret and embarrassment into words. His eyes narrow slightly as she pushes the thoughts and feelings and images to him, before he pulls out of her mind and removes his hands from hers to grip the arms of his wheelchair.

Raven swears she can feel the temperature in the room drop a couple of degrees as her brother’s expression becomes polite and distant once again, an attempt to armor himself against her revelations. She sighs audibly and says, “Charles, I didn’t _know_. I would never have gone to him; got into his bed if I’d known you two were involved. I wouldn’t do something like that on purpose to hurt you.” She already knows he’ll deny being upset and cuts him off before he begins, “I thought...I thought since you didn’t want me, that maybe Erik would. That maybe once we knew each other better then he and I could have something more.”

Charles rolls backwards, out of Raven’s reach and turns back towards the window. He keeps his eyes stubbornly fixed outside, refusing to look at her for a full minute before he asks, “And? Do you? Have something more?”

Her mocking laughter surprises Charles, and its enough to make her brother turn around and face her again. “Oh Charles I was so stupid! He complimented my mutation and told me not to hide! That’s all it took for me to think he might be able to love me! Magneto!” She lets out an unladylike snort that makes him chuckle; apparently her brother can well imagine his ex-lover’s reticence and inability to handle relationships. “He appreciates me for the weapon that I am. For the ruthless and efficient second-in-command he needs to help him run the Brotherhood. But I might as well be Azazel or Janos to him for all the attention he pays me.”

Charles frowns and his eyes narrow slightly at her words. “Has he mistreated you? Been unkind?”

“No. I think I’m his only friend really. And he does his best to look out for all of us but he doesn’t let anyone in. You remember what he was like Charles? When we first met him? Paranoid? Wary of everyone and everything?” She sighs and taps her fingers lightly on the arm of her chair. “He’s alone and that’s how he wants it to be. Or thinks he deserves.”

She can admit that the seemingly nonchalant tone in her brother’s next words are a little unexpected. “I’m sure Erik is quite content with the choices he’s made. After all, a man striving for the salvation of all mutant kind can’t very well be burdened with things as mundane as feelings and commitments.”

Now this – this Charles with the biting wit and the arrogance reminds her of the brother she knows and loves. “Don’t be an idiot Charles. You know he’s still in love with you and never stopped. He’s been carrying you around in his head and his heart like you’re a perfect saint. A man foolish enough to love him that he didn’t deserve and couldn’t keep in the end.”

Charles scoffs at her, “And I suppose he told you all this then? Poured his heart out to you, did he?”

_She hasn’t seen Magneto all day, not since they arrived back at the base from their mission in Arizona._

_The mission where they’d run into Charles and his X-Men for the first time since Cuba._

_It’s also the first time they’ve seen her brother in his wheelchair._

_Magneto may have appeared unaffected to the other members of the Brotherhood but she knows him better; knows how close he was to Charles and how hard today’s unintended meeting must have hit him. She’s not surprised when he doesn’t come out for meals or to debrief the team and give them their next assignments. The others are starting to get antsy._

_It’s two in the morning when she finally decides to brave Magneto’s temper and check in on him. It doesn’t take her very long to pick the lock and she’s infinitely grateful he hadn’t melted them in a fit of pique._

_Inside the spartan room she finds him sprawled on his bed, helmet and cape thrown haphazardly on the floor, an empty bottle of whiskey still clutched in one hand. In his other hand he’s holding a piece of paper...a letter?_

_Given who they saw today she’s fairly certain of the letter's origin, and she’s burning to know its contents. Even though she had been the one to deliver Charles’ letter, Magneto had never revealed to her what her brother had written. She lets herself succumb to the temptation, privacy and friendship be damned._

_She means to leave after she reads it, her hands shaking and her head spinning with rage and hurt and denial. Charles never told her! And all this time she had thought there was a chance for her and Magneto! And they were more than just friends; they loved each other and Magneto still left him. Still left her brother bleeding on the sand._

_Like she had done._

_Later, she thinks she did it to punish them both._

_He stirs when she slips the letter back into his hand and moans drunkenly, before grabbing her wrist. She shifts instinctively, without any real thought into an achingly familiar form and when he opens his eyes, Magneto is looking up at Charles Xavier._

_“Charles?”_

_She sits on the bed next to him and says nothing; she’ll let him think he’s dreaming or hallucinating a visit from her brother. Magneto grabs at her arms and clutches at her cardigan as though he’s afraid to let go, then drags himself forward until his head is in her lap and he’s wrapped his arms around her waist. She sits still while he clings to her, stroking his hair softly and lets him cry._

Raven watches her brother process the memory, his face going through a myriad expressions until he settles again into a semblance of neutral calm. “That was a long time ago,” he whispers.

She shrugs and pulls her feet up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around her knees like she used to do as a child. “Some things don’t change with time.”

They sit together then in a more comfortable silence, Charles rolling his chair next to Raven’s so she can tilt her head to rest it against his shoulder. After a while, he reaches for her hand and squeezes it gently, and asks, “Will you leave with him again?”

“That depends entirely on you two,” she sighs and squeezes his hand back. “I don’t want to leave but if Erik goes than I need to follow. We have the Brotherhood to run and the things we’ve accomplished – I believe in the good we’ve done for other mutants.” She turns and looks into her brother’s eyes. “It’s been eight years Charles. Surely, you’ve both spent enough time apart being stubborn. And you have Max to think about. Find a way to compromise so you can work together.”

She watches as he shakes his head sadly. “Raven, you know it’s not that simple. I just...I love Erik, but I don’t trust him not to leave.”

“I don’t know Charles, he might surprise you yet.” She tilts her head up to kiss him on the cheek. “You and I...are we going to be okay?”

He puts his arm around her and tugs her closer. “Maybe, eventually. We will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked Raven & Charles' heart to heart! I know there hasn't been a lot of Charles/Erik yet but that will change next chapter when the two of them spend time together with Max. And I have plans for much more Cherik time in coming updates!


	9. Family Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik spends time with Charles and Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked if Erik threw out the rest of Charles' letters and whether we'll get to read them; the answer is - he didn't and you will!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you like this update.

_April 17, 1963_

_Dear Erik,_

_We are having a son._

_Hank and I were able to see him clearly today for the first time on the ultrasound machine. He is in perfect health and his development is coming along beautifully. Unfortunately, I am being confined to bed rest as my body is not handling the pregnancy as well as we hoped. We are monitoring my food and vitamin intake but Hank believes I am developing too high levels of iron deficiency causing anemia. He’s concerned that if my general health continues to deteriorate it will become a very risky delivery for me and the baby._

_I’m trying to be optimistic and doing my best to follow his instructions. We are looking for a qualified obstetrician now in preparation for the baby’s arrival in June._

_Erik, I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to our child. Some nights I’m so scared I can’t sleep._

_I wish you were here._

_Yours,_

_Charles_

_June 1, 1963_

_Erik,_

_Hank and Dr. Richards believe that I will need to deliver the baby sooner than later. I’m told it is likely to happen sometime this week._

_I have asked both Hank and Alex to act as guardians for the baby should I not survive the delivery. I’ve made all legal arrangements to have the bulk of my estate transferred to the baby’s name in trust with the remaining set aside for Raven. The boys have both promised to care for him and I am quite relieved to know that our child will be well loved and protected in the safety and anonymity of the mansion._

_If the worst does come to pass, I hope you will respect my wishes for our son and let him remain here to be raised away from whatever violence follows your chosen path. I care only that he is happy, healthy and loved; it is your choice the extent you wish to be involved in his life._

_Our son’s name is Max Francis Xavier. I gave him both of our names so he will always carry us with him. He is the best of the both of us._

_Charles_

_February 9, 1963_

_Dearest Erik,_

_The February weather in New York State is so dreary and cold; I find myself feeling even more closed in than usual as we wait out this latest storm front. If you are still in the States, or someplace where the winter weather is harsh, I hope that that you and Raven are taking care to dress warmly and staying safe._

_Hank tells me that I’m now about five months along in the pregnancy and that all continues to be well with the baby. I had hoped for less frequent bouts of nausea by the second term but it would appear to be wishful thinking on my part. Our young genius is racing through every medical journal he can find on pregnancies and determined to learn everything he can about my mutation in preparation for what he believes will be a complicated delivery. You will be pleased to know that I am following all of Hank’s instructions to rest and eat often to ensure the health and wellbeing of the baby._

_I should tell you that I believe our child will have telepathic abilities like me. Yesterday for the first time I could sense our tiny miracle projecting emotions from inside of me. Feelings like warmth, contentment, love. Oh Erik I can’t begin to explain the joy I feel, knowing that our baby is safe and happy._

_I miss you so much. Please, come home._

_Yours,_

_Charles_

 

***

He has Azazel deliver him back to the mansion’s driveway, some distance away from the front door. Erik thanks his teleporter, promising to call soon with instructions for the team and then heads up the gravel path with his small suitcase.

He feels oddly exposed without his helmet and cape; the outer trappings of Magneto allowing him to remain distant and impersonal from everyone around him. And every forward step he takes feels significant, weighted, as the mansion looms above him.

Most surprising (and unsettling) is the unexpected quiet of the early evening. There should be more light and sound filtering from the open windows; it’s a Saturday night and the students and teachers are all taking a break from their studies. More importantly, Erik doesn’t feel Charles; he had expected Charles in his mind the moment he arrived back on the grounds without his helmet.

He’s not sure what it says that he feels both relieved and disappointed.

The foyer is empty when he enters, and he doesn’t encounter any of the mansion’s residents as he takes the long winding staircase up to the second floor. He checks in briefly with Mystique and drops off a few items she requested from the Brotherhood’s base before going back to his own room to stow his belongings.

He pulls out the stack of letters he retrieved from the bank before returning to the mansion and tosses them on the bed. Unpacking takes all of five minutes as he throws some shirts into the dresser along with a few pairs of jeans and slacks. It’s not much more than what he came with the first time he stayed here after leaving the CIA installation with Charles and their new recruits.

Erik sits on the bed, running his fingers over the envelopes scattered on the bedspread. So far, he’s only read three, having pulled them out randomly from the pile to see with his own eyes that Charles had told him the truth. He would have almost preferred if Charles had lied about writing to him regarding Max; instead he has over a dozen letters in hand to condemn his failure as both a parent and a lover.

The words are painful to read, his chest aching with regret for what Charles went through those first months after they parted ways. He had needed Erik and wanted and hoped for his return; had been deathly ill and afraid for Max’s life.

He had almost died, believing that Erik had read his letters and had chosen to ignore him, to abandon their child.

Erik knows that at the time, he had good reasons not to read Charles’ letters. He could hardly afford the distraction; he had a team of mutants who followed him out of circumstance and not loyalty. He needed funds; needed to establish a base of operations and to recruit others to join their fight. He and Charles had both made a choice and he couldn’t let his ex-lover sway him off course.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

And he knows that he needs to make amends; for causing Charles even more pain than he thought possible, for giving birth to Max and loving and raising him on his own, without Erik by his side.

He just has no idea where to begin.

***

Erik wanders back down to the main level, passing by the occasional student who says hello but pays no further attention to his presence. He stops a boy about thirteen or fourteen years of age in the kitchen, wearing a pair of what looks like red goggles and asks to be directed to Charles and Max.

He can’t see the boy’s eyes behind the lenses but Erik can feel himself being assessed, his worth being measured and found wanting by the teenager standing in front of him. The boy doesn’t bother to give him a name, instead pointing Erik to the study and then wanders off without another word.

Erik can hear the low murmur of voices when he arrives outside the open door and he hesitates only for a moment before he steps inside. The sight that greets him stops him mid-stride, a ground swell of longing and affection threatening to knock him right off his feet.

Charles and Max are sitting in front of the fireplace, a chess set placed on a low table between them. Max is curled up on one of the old antique armchairs across from Charles - _in Erik’s chair_ \- and there’s a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk within easy reach. There is focused intent on Max’s face as he makes his move, and then he slowly turns towards Erik and smiles, eyes bright and warm. “Hello Papa!”

***

It hits Charles like a tidal wave the moment Erik transports back onto the property.

When he had felt the emptiness around Erik disappear from the mansion earlier in the day he had assumed that his former friend had chosen to leave instead of meeting his conditions for spending time with Max. The mix of emotions Charles felt in that moment was at once confusing and enlightening; he was relieved to have the inevitable happen sooner rather than later, and yet his insides felt scrubbed raw, old wounds bleeding where he thought them long healed and scarred. Raven’s explanation that Erik had left to make arrangements for a longer stay should have made him happy for Max and hopeful for a real relationship between father and son. Instead he finds himself filled with dread; he knows there will be more confrontations and awkwardness between them in the days and nights to come.

His powers have grown exponentially in the years since he’s last felt Erik’s mind, had been invited in and embraced by his lover, and he throws his shields up quickly and easily to guard against the steady outpouring of emotions. Erik’s mind is like a shining beacon in the dark and he can’t help but follow as the other man wanders into the mansion and up the stairs to his guest room. It takes every ounce of Charles’ willpower to shield himself from Erik’s thoughts; to not to dive in and make himself at home.

“You’re doing very well tonight Max.” He smiles at his son who is staring at the chess board, contemplating his next move with a serious expression on his face.

“Thanks Daddy.” He watches as Max makes a move, before tilting his head slightly, eyes widening in delight. “Can you...I can feel him Daddy! Mr. Erik is back and I can feel him now!”

_“Easy, Max. Your father has likely not experienced a telepath is his mind for a very long time. It would be best to be gentle when you reach out to him; touch his surface thoughts and emotions and let him guide you further.”_

_“Okay Daddy I promise.”_ Max is clearly still reaching out telepathically as he continues, _“He’s coming downstairs now. And he’s thinking really loudly about a lot of different things. About me and you and family...I see a tall man and a woman with pretty hair...he misses them a lot.”_

Charles reaches out to brush his son’s cheek, “He's thinking about his own Mama and Papa, love.”

“Oh,” Max wrinkles his brow slightly before he looks up at Charles, “Do you think it would be okay if I called him Papa instead of Mr. Erik?”

He can sense Erik outside the study now as he rolls the chess piece in his hand and places it on the board. “I’m sure he’ll like that very much.”

Charles can feel the shock, mixed with an overwhelming love as Erik steps into the room and takes in the scene. He has to strengthen his shields again to not get swept up in the emotions; he knows better than to hope that a momentary bout of nostalgia will make Erik change his mind and stay.

“Hello Papa!” Max stands and walks over to where his father has stopped in the middle of the room. He reaches to take Erik’s hand and then wraps his arms around to hug him. “It’s really you.”

Erik wraps his own arms around Max and leans down to kiss him on the top of his head. His smile is blinding, chasing years off the harsh lines of his face as he crouches in front of Max. “It’s really me.”

“Daddy and I are playing chess. Do you want to play too?”

He hesitates for a moment before allowing Max to pull him over to the chessboard and push him into the unoccupied chair. The boy then promptly climbs into his lap and settles comfortably, before pointing to the game in progress. “Can you help me Papa? I think I’m losing this game to Daddy.”

They both laugh and Charles can’t help but join in. He can see Erik watching him intently and deliberately does not meet the other man’s gaze. “You mean Charles doesn’t let you win?” And now Erik is grinning at him, smile so wide and open that for a moment, Charles forgets that this isn’t the norm; that they haven’t always been like this, the three of them a real family.

“Max insists that he only wants to win if he can genuinely beat me.”

“That’s admirable.” He shifts the boy slightly so he can see both Max and Charles as he speaks. “I’ll do the best I can Max but I haven’t played in years.”

“Oh?” Charles is honestly surprised at Erik’s comment. “You haven’t the time even for an occasional game of chess?”

Erik stares at him for a moment before answering, “No one else could ever compare to you Charles.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence then, as Erik and Max discuss strategy together in their heads and Charles very consciously stays out of their private thoughts. Their game continues on to a draw, just in time for Max to let out a huge yawn against Erik’s chest.

“I think it’s time for bed, Max. Say goodnight and you can see your father in the morning.”

Max winds his hands around Erik’s neck and tilts his head slightly to smile sleepily at Charles. “Can Papa take me upstairs and tuck me in instead?”

He tries not to react to Max’s words though his heart clenches at his son's request. “That’s fine love, if your father doesn’t mind?”

Erik looks relieved and a bit grateful, “No of course I don’t mind.” He lifts Max up and stands, holding his son tightly in his arms. “Thank you Charles.”

“Good night Daddy!” Erik leans down so Max can hug Charles and kiss him goodnight, before lifting him up again and turning to head towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning!”

“Good night, love,” Charles answers, smiling sadly as he watches Erik carry their son away, hoping it’s not a sign of things to come.


	10. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Max bond over their respective gifts. And Erik has trouble getting through to Charles.

Erik doesn’t miss the look of tired resignation on Charles’ face as he carries Max out of the study. Does he resent Erik’s presence in their lives so much? Does Charles _want_ him to leave?

After everything he’s done to hurt the man he loves...well Erik can hardly blame him.

Max is talking a mile a minute, telling him all the details of his day; his trip into town with Alex and Scott for supplies, what he ate for dinner and how he stayed home from the movies to keep Charles company. He listens enraptured, answering Max occasionally as they wander up the grand staircase and turn right towards the west wing.

“Which one is yours?” He stops outside Charles’ old bedroom to wait for directions, wondering if it still looks the same inside; if it’s still Charles’ room.

“Daddy’s still in the same bedroom and I’m next door in Aunt Raven’s old room.” Erik smiles and arches an eyebrow at his son who laughs, “You’re thinking very loudly Papa.”

He sets the boy down and opens the door, Max promptly running inside and grabbing his striped pajamas off the bed. “I’m going to change in the bathroom and brush my teeth. Don’t go anywhere okay?”

“I’ll be right here.” He watches as Max darts quickly into the adjoining bathroom and sits down on the bed to wait. His eyes wander around the room, taking in as much detail as he can about his son’s life.

Posters and artwork related to space and the moon landing cover two of the walls, with a third taken up by a wall-to-ceiling shelf unit filled with various books, models and toys. There’s a telescope next to the desk beside the large window, alongside a number of star charts that are marked and well used. A picture in a wooden frame on the night stand catches his eye and he picks it up for a closer look.

It’s a picture of him and Charles.

He stares at the image of the young men they used to be, sitting together in a field of bright green grass. The two of them are deep in conversation; Charles is sitting cross legged, his hands gesturing in mid air while Erik is sitting with an arm propped on one knee, gazing intently at the man in front of him. They are both dressed in grey sweaters and brown slacks; he remembers the golden sunshine and crisp chill of that early September morning, mere weeks before everything changed.

“Daddy let me have that. He says it’s the only picture we have of you.” Max slips quietly into the room and hops onto the bed next to his father.

Erik is still staring at the photo in his hand as he answers, “I didn’t know this existed. Who took the picture?”

Max takes the frame out of his hands, hugging it close before putting it back in its spot on the night stand. “Daddy says Aunt Raven took it. Sean found the camera after she left and had the film developed. It had a bunch of pictures of her and Alex and Hank and Sean goofing around outside. But there’s only this one of you and Daddy.” He slides himself under his blankets before pulling his father beside him, wrapping his arms around Erik and snuggling against his chest. “I knew what you looked like from the memories Daddy showed me, but I liked being able to see you with my eyes too.”

Erik stares at his son, who is looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes full of love and contentment. He slams his shields up as fast and as tight as he can, not wanting any of his guilt and self loathing to spill over onto Max. He reaches to brush a hand through soft, wavy hair and gently places a kiss on his forehead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, _Schatz_.”

The boy smiles and burrows deeper against his side. “Well, you’re here now.”

He tries hard not to think about the amount of time he can really afford to stay, or imagine the look on Max’s face when he has to leave.

“Papa?”

“Hmm? What is it?”

Max tilts his head up to look at father, radiating curiosity and keen interest. “Daddy says your gift is amazing and you can move metal. Will you show me?”

Erik smiles and looks around the room until he spies the rocket shaped piggy bank sitting on the desk. He guides six of the coins out, one by one, before floating them across the room to suspend mid-air in front of an amused Max who claps with delight. “Cool! What else can you do? Can you move something bigger?”

With another gentle nudge, Erik lifts the heavy steel telescope off the floor and floats it slowly around the room while simultaneously weaving the coins through the air around Max’s head. The boy is mesmerized, his eyes wide with wonder until the telescope lands softly in its old spot again and the coins float gently into his lap.

“That’s awesome! What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever moved? Can you move a bed? A car?”

The smile slips from his face and he has to force himself not to grimace. “A submarine.”

“Wow,” Max whispers in an awed voice, before flopping back onto his pillow and sighs. “I wish I could move metal too.”

He squeezes the boy’s shoulders lightly and chuckles. “You already have an incredible gift, Max. And if you’re anything like Charles, your powers will be virtually unmatched.”

“But telepathy is so boring!” Erik laughs as Max rolls his eyes and pouts. “I can’t do anything fun! I can’t shoot plasma from my eyes or my chest! I can’t make the weather change or make my skin turn to metal! I can’t fly like Sean or run really fast like Hank! The only thing I can do is hear people’s thoughts and see inside their heads!”

“You don’t like hearing people’s thoughts?”

Max’s scowl softens a little as he answers, “I like talking to Daddy in my head and I like that I always know where he is and he knows where I am. When I get scared I always feel better when Daddy sends me his thoughts and feelings.” He turns to look at Erik again and shrugs. “It’s other people’s thoughts...sometimes I hear some things that aren’t very nice.”

Charles had shared with him once how difficult it was growing up as a telepath, struggling to understand and control his gift, surrounded by people who were at best indifferent to his existence and at worst, hated him or wished to hurt him. He found himself feeling an overwhelming urge to protect his son, to shield him from the evils that lurk in the hearts and minds of men.

He certainly knows firsthand the darkness that can consume a person’s soul.

“What sorts of things have you heard Max? Does Charles know?”

The boy shakes his head emphatically and clutches Erik’s hand. “You can’t tell Daddy I told you! I don’t want to upset him.” He sighs again, physically deflating a little. “Sometimes when I’m out with Daddy I hear what people think when they see him. They say mean things in their head because he’s in a wheelchair. Like they think there’s something wrong with him because he can’t walk.” Max’s eyes start to glisten as he continues, “It makes me so mad! But Daddy always says that we can’t control what people think, it’s what they do that matters.”

Erik pats his son’s head to reassure him, even as he wrestles with his own feelings at Max’s revelations. He’s furious that anyone could ever look at Charles and see him as anything less than the incredible man Erik knows him to be. And that his son is subjected to such hurtful thoughts about the person he loves most in the world. “Your Daddy is right. People who think that way are ignorant and not worth his time or yours. Anyone who’s ever met Charles knows he’s an amazing man.”

“But it’s not just strangers, Papa. Sometimes, I hear things from my friends, the people I love.” He glances up at Erik and whispers, “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

He nods and Max smiles a little in response. “Scott – he’s Alex’s younger brother – he’s really great and he treats me like I’m his little brother. I know he loves me, I’ve seen it in his head. But sometimes, after Alex spends time with me, or with me and Daddy, I can tell he’s hurt and angry. He wonders if Alex loves me and Daddy more than him and if that’s why he didn’t look for him sooner.” It comes out of Max in a rush, and he continues, cheeks flushed and a little breathless. “And Ororo. She’s sad that Daddy is just my Daddy and not hers too, even though she knows he loves her. She misses having a mom and dad and thinks it’s not fair that I have a parent when she has none.”

Erik just stares at Max for a moment, trying to think of an appropriate way to respond. “People are complicated and don’t always think just good things or just bad things. Your gift allows you to do something that most people can’t do and they often won’t realize that you can hear what they’re thinking. Unfortunately, that means you’ll know things that people want to keep secret. That’s not your fault or anything you can control.”

The boy gives him a pointed look and scoffs. “I know _that._ Now you sound just like Daddy.”

He chuckles and tucks the blankets under Max’s chin. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now I think it’s time for you to go to sleep.”

Max yawns and promptly closes his eyes. “Goodnight Papa. I’m glad you’re here.”

He kisses his son and leans over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Me too, Max. Good night.”

***

By the time he makes it back downstairs to the study, only a few embers remain of the dying fire and the room is dark except for the soft glow of a reading lamp. Charles has fallen asleep on the couch, a science journal open across his chest.

_Erik walks closer, his steps quiet as he watches Charles' chest rise and fall gently in the near dark. He crouches down and brushes a long finger across the slightly stubbled cheek, before leaning in to place a kiss on soft, red lips. Charles' eyes flutter open and he is gifted with a warm, welcoming smile. “Erik.”_

_“Time for bed.” He pulls his lover to his feet and into his arms, relishing the feel of Charles’ body pressed against his own. “Was I too rough on you today?” He grins broadly as Charles laughs out loud at the double meaning in his words._

_“Darling, I think I’m black and blue and covered with bruises. Tell me again why I agreed to spar with you? And what exactly are you trying to teach me?” Charles runs his hand through Erik’s hair and pulls him into an open mouthed kiss that leaves them both slightly breathless._

_“You need to get better at self defense. I'm teaching you Krav Maga. Something I learned while I was on Shaw’s trail. The man who taught it to me - we had similar interests.” He nips Charles’ bottom lip and grins when he gets a needy moan in response._

_“What similar interests?” He can feel Charles’ hands slide around the small of his back, dipping under the hem of his shirt to rub lightly across his burning skin._

_He growls and bites down on the spot between neck and shoulder, causing Charles to buck against him and moan into his chest. “Hunting Nazis.”_

_His lover pulls back slightly and looks up at Erik, eyes glittering in the dim light. “That really shouldn’t be so sexy.” Charles’ lips curve into a wicked smile. “You’re no good for me, I can tell.”_

_Erik’s smile is sharp and full of teeth. “Oh I’ll show you good Charles.”_

“Erik?”

“Charles.”

They stare at one another wordlessly for what feels like an eternity, before Charles breaks off eye contact and pulls himself up in his seat. “Is Max asleep?”

“Yes, I think he was quite tired. He fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.” Erik sits down in one of the armchairs, a polite distance from Charles who is now avoiding his gaze. “Thank you for letting me spend time with him.”

“You’re welcome to spend as much time as you’d like with Max. I know he’s very happy to have you and Raven here.”

The awkward silence returns and Erik has to force himself to stay seated so he doesn’t end up pacing restlessly around the room. He watches as Charles pulls the wheelchair closer and locks it in place, before swinging himself easily into position. He rolls forward until he’s directly in front of Erik and looks intently at the other man, an edge to his tone as he speaks. “I sincerely hope that you don’t leave without saying goodbye to Max. And I would appreciate as much advanced notice as possible so I can prepare him for your departure.”

He starts towards the door to exit the study, only for Erik to stop him abruptly using the metal in his wheelchair. “You think I would just leave Max without saying good bye? Do you really think so poorly of me Charles?”

He releases the metal brakes and Charles spins around to face him, looking tired and irritated. “I don’t think of you at all, Erik. I don’t know anything about you anymore. I’m only asking you to think about Max’s feelings when you go, that’s all.”

Erik closes his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat, determined not to show how much Charles’ words are affecting him. “Do you _want_ me to go?”

He doesn’t get an answer. Instead, Charles takes a deep breath and looks him straight in the eye. “Are you going to stay?”

Erik knows he didn’t imagine the flash of disappointment on the other man’s face when he answers, “I don’t know.”

“Well, be sure to let me know when you decide. Good night.”

“Wait.” Charles is almost at the door when Erik calls out to him. He turns and stops, looking expectantly at his ex-lover. “I want you to know that I didn’t throw out your letters. I kept all of them. I--”

“Stop,” Charles interrupts, raising his hand and pointedly refusing to look at Erik. “I don’t want to know. That was a long time ago and it serves no purpose to bring it up again now. Whatever you have to say won’t change what’s happened and I’d rather not dwell on the past.” He turns abruptly then, and rolls away before Erik has the chance to say another word.

He remains seated and watches the fire until it burns out completely, only falling asleep as the sun starts to rise early the next morning.


	11. Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are running high as Erik and Charles continue to avoid their issues.

Sean is in the sitting room at the back of the mansion, large bay windows facing out onto the rolling green lawns of the estate. It’s one of his favorite places to retreat; a quiet oasis from his chaotic day to day responsibilities for the School’s upkeep. It’s a place where Sean can come to kick back and relax; to watch television relatively undisturbed or to enjoy the view of the grounds while nursing a cup of the Professor’s favorite Earl Grey tea.

The view is particularly interesting today and Sean would find it hilarious if he wasn’t so worried. He can see Alex and the Professor on their daily stroll of the grounds, winding around the gardens along the gravel path. His friend is pushing Charles’ wheelchair, an allowance the Professor has given no one else since his accident. It’s a reflection of the bond the two men share, an acknowledgement of Alex’s key role in helping their beloved friend and mentor battle his depression and deteriorating health post Cuba.

He’s well aware of Alex’s feelings for the Prof. and knows just as well that Charles does not reciprocate. Hank, Alex and Sean may have all grown into their roles as teachers to the younger generation but to Charles they will always be _his_ students, his 'first class'. He feels badly for his friend, to love a man who could never see him as a true equal. A man who’s heart has always belonged to someone else.

He can see Erik wandering around outside with Max and Ororo, the children laughing and chattering excitedly as they sprint across the wide open space. Erik is clearly distracted, only answering their questions and indulging their curiosity with an occasional word or slight show of his powers. Sean watches his eyes follow the Professor, gaze intent and expression tight and he does not miss the narrowed slits of grey-blue steel when Alex leans down to whisper something in Charles’ ear.

Hopefully, Alex knows better than to provoke the man on purpose.

It’s been two weeks since Erik and Raven’s arrival at the School and what little interaction there’s been between the former partners has been fraught with tension. Erik wanders the mansion and the grounds aimlessly when he’s not with Max, stormy countenance warning anyone and everyone to stay far away. Charles has buried himself in his work, coming out only to teach his classes and then retreating to his office for meals. The air is thick with uncertainty; even the children have picked up on the strange mood rolling off the two men in waves.

Sean takes another sip of his tea and looks out the window again. This time, he catches the Professor watching Erik with the children, a wistful look crossing his face before it shifts to a neutral mask. He sighs, wondering if he should tell the two most powerful mutants in the world that they’re acting like lovesick teenagers.

Or better yet, maybe he should lock them in a room until they either fight it out, or fuck it out of their systems. It’s an option he’s willing to consider more and more every day.

***

Alex is practically counting down the minutes until Magneto decides to leave.

He’s out with the Professor on their daily walk on the grounds, a ritual they established a few months after Cuba. At the time, Alex didn’t know that Charles was battling depression, in addition to the ill effects of his pregnancy. He only knew that the cheerful, optimistic man who had saved him and earned his trust was a shell of his former self. Alex was determined to see him get better, even if he had to threaten and cajole the Professor relentlessly before the he agreed to join him outside for some much needed fresh air.

Alex wishes he could find it in his heart to forgive Magneto; he knows the right thing to do for his friend is to help Charles find a way to deal with his unresolved feelings. He knows that the Professor will never love him back; knows the older man has never gotten over his relationship with Lehnsherr. And he cares enough for Charles to want what’s best for him, even if it means letting him go.

He’s old enough now to acknowledge his own issues with what happened eight years ago. He had admired Erik from the start, had wanted to learn from someone who could teach him to channel his anger and pain into power and single minded purpose. There’s a small part of him that even agrees with his thoughts on humans; that their fear of mutants will eventually turn to hatred and war. And if things had happened differently, perhaps Alex would have left with him and Raven and joined their fight.

But every time he thinks about that day on the beach, he sees the bullet fly through the air and hit Charles in the back. Remembers how they left their friend and lover, their _brother_ , lying broken and bloody on the sand. Maybe if Alex was a better man he could forgive their betrayal; perhaps if the bullet had hit _him_ it might have been easier. But it was Charles they abandoned that day...and Alex isn’t sure how anyone who claimed to love the Professor could have treated him so callously and faithlessly.

“You’re awfully quiet today Alex. Is something troubling you?”

“Just thinking about the new curriculum Prof. Are you sure the children are ready for Shakespeare?”

Charles chuckles and reaches up to pat Alex’s hand. “I don’t need to be a telepath to know you’re not thinking about the new reading material.”

He sighs and turns along the garden path, in the opposite direction from where Magneto is playing with Max and Ororo. “I keep hoping he’s going to get bored and leave so things can get back to normal.” He pushes his feelings of concern towards Charles and adds, “Everyone’s walking on egg shells waiting for the dam to break.”

The Professor is quiet as they continue along, Alex pushing the wheelchair slowly under the swaying trees. “Erik can’t stay indefinitely. He’ll have to go back to the Brotherhood soon I imagine.” He hears Charles take a deep breath and raise his arms above his head for a long stretch. “And I’m sure we can hold off from breaking any furniture until then.”

Alex laughs and squeezes the Prof.’s shoulder lightly. “Well at least we can be thankful that Logan’s not here right now. I can just imagine how those two would get along.” There’s a couple of minutes of silence before Alex asks, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

He gives a slight shake of his head before Charles answers, “I’m not sure. He doesn’t usually say where he’s going or when he’s coming back. But he hasn’t been gone longer than a few months at a time so I’m guessing he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, goody.” Logan isn’t his favorite person in the world but at least the maniac hates Lehnsherr almost as much as Alex does. “I can’t wait.”

***

Max is in the kitchen grabbing a snack from the fridge for himself and Ororo. He pours them each a glass of apple juice while Ororo places two bananas and a plate of cookies on the table.

“I like your Papa, Max. His gift is really cool. And he really liked that I could make it rain!”

He smiles and takes a drink from his cup and then takes a bite out of his cookie. “I knew you’d like him ‘Ro! He’s smart and strong and he loves everybody’s gifts! Daddy says Papa is proud to be a mutant and he thinks all mutations are amazing!”

Ororo smiles brightly at his words, but Max can tell that she’s a little sad. “What’s wrong ‘Ro? You can tell me.”

The little girl nods her head slightly and takes a bite of her banana before answering, “Is your Papa moving back for good? With your Aunt Raven? Is he getting back together with the Prof.?”

Max furrows his brow at her words and takes a moment to think about it before he answers, “I don’t know. Papa doesn’t seem to know what he wants to do. His thoughts are all a jumble. I can tell that he wants to, but he feels like he can’t? And he thinks Daddy doesn’t want him to stay.”

Ororo’s eyes widen and she whispers, “You think the Prof. is mad at Mr. Erik? Do they fight a lot?”

“No.” Max shakes his head. “We play chess every night in the study and Papa and Daddy are always very polite to each other. But they act really weird...they don’t really talk to each other very much. They ask me lots of questions about my day and sometimes Papa asks Daddy questions about me but that’s it. They don’t talk about anything else.”

She hums quietly under her breath for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. “Is your Daddy still mad at Mr. Erik for leaving?”

Max can’t help but shrug at the question. “I don’t know ‘Ro. You know I can’t read Daddy like I can everyone else. He shields his thoughts about Papa from me.” He sighs and gives Ororo a small smile. “I really hope Papa stays though. I want us to be a real family.”

Ororo stares at Max before reaching over to grab his hand. “I like your Papa and I want him to stay too. And I want the Prof. to be happy. So I’m going to help you get them back together okay?”

He rolls his eyes at her and pulls his hand away to grab another cookie. “Thanks but how are we going to do that? We’re just kids...they’re not going to listen to us.”

She grins and Max is reminded of sunshine and bright skies. “Well, we’re going to need some help.”

***

If Hank is being honest with himself, he’ll admit to spending even more time than usual in his lab since Erik and Raven’s return to the mansion.

He’s not particularly concerned about running into them himself; in fact he’s spent a few quiet afternoons catching up with Raven about their respective lives. Their conversations had always been easy and he’s pleased to find that a remnant of their previous camaraderie still exists. With the Professor’s illness and then his subsequent, self imposed exile, Hank had been happy to share some of his less confidential research updates with another adult.

Hank keeps himself busy – _hides_ – in his lab so he doesn’t have to watch the painful dance between the Professor and Magneto. He’s never been great with relationships or dealing with the type of emotions that are churning between them; Hank’s always been better with facts than feelings. But even he can see how badly they need to talk, to deal with the many issues that have been festering between them for eight years.

Plus it doesn’t take a genius to see how much his friend and his ex-mentor still love each other. Erik spends an inordinate amount of time just watching Charles, staring at him with a hunger that’s almost frightening in its intensity. And though the Prof. hides it better, Hank knows him well enough to see through the seemingly detached facade to the uncertainty and turmoil bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Hi Hank!”

“Hello Max, Ororo. What brings you two down here for a visit?”

The two children wander into the lab hand in hand and stop in front of Hank with big smiles on their faces. It’s easy to see that they want something, though he can’t find it in himself to feel anything but charmed by their giddiness.

Max grins, his smile wide and toothy. “Hank, we need your help.”

“Oh? And what is it that you need help with?”

Ororo jumps in with a breathless laugh. “We’re going to get the Professor and Mr. Erik back together so Max can have a real family. But we need an adult to help us.”

Hank looks at them both and sighs. “And what do you think I can do? Charles and Erik are incredibly stubborn men. They can barely stand to be in the same room with each other right now and you think I can help you get them back together?”

The little girl tilts her head up to look at him, a piece of her long white hair falling into her eyes as she speaks. “Well Max and I figure that the problem is that they won’t talk to each other. So we just need to give them a good reason to talk.”

“Papa _wants_ to talk,” Max interjects, “after he tucks me into bed at night he always goes right back down to the study. I can tell he’s hoping to find Daddy there waiting for him but it never happens. Daddy always goes to his room the minute Papa and I leave even though I know he doesn’t go to sleep that early.”

Hank sighs. “Alright, so you’re telling me Charles is the one refusing to give Erik an opening? So you...want me to talk to your Dad? Get him to give Erik a chance? I’m not sure that’s going to work.”

Max smiles and walks over to Hank’s desk, picking up the blueprints to the new Cerebro. “No I’ve got a better idea.”

***

“You want me to do what?”

Erik is in his new (old) bedroom, staring at Hank and the blueprints in his hand. At Max’s insistence and Charles’ somewhat reluctant agreement he had moved back into his old bedroom across from Charles and Max in the west wing. To say that he was surprised the room was unoccupied would have been an understatement; it still looks exactly the way he remembers it from his original stay at the mansion.

Hank lets out a low growl and rubs his face impatiently. “I want you to help me build a larger Cerebro. We’ve had plans to do it for years. It’s taken us this long to source all the metal that’s required to build this new version underground. And it’ll take a lot longer still if we have to put the paneling up ourselves, whereas you can probably do it in the matter of weeks or even days.”

He sneers at the man in front of him and snaps, “And why would I help you do that? I’m not a glorified lackey for you to order around and take advantage of my powers!”

“You are such a pompous ass,” Hank snarls, “I’m trying to help you with Charles!”

Erik stops and stares. “Help me with Charles? How?”

“Let’s not kid ourselves and pretend that this visit has been going particularly well for you.” Hank levels a glare at Erik who has no qualms glaring right back. “Charles doesn’t trust your intentions and that’s why he won’t talk to you. If you help us with Cerebro you can show him that you mean well and it’ll give you the excuse you need to really talk to him. Cerebro is important to the Prof; he won’t discount anything you have to say about it.”

He doesn’t respond for a long moment, gaze level as he takes the blueprints from Hank and looks them over. “Why are you helping me? What’s in it for you?”

Hank scratches the back of his head and sighs. “I’m not doing this for _you_. I’m doing this for Max and for Charles. Max wants you to stay, or at the very least to fix things with his Dad. And Charles needs closure, whatever that may be.”

Erik wants to accept that Hank has good intentions but he’s having trouble believing it. “You would trust me with something like this? To build Cerebro for Charles’ use? You’re not afraid that I could do something to hurt him?”

Hanks scoffs at his words. “I _don’t_ trust you, which is why I’ll be there to supervise the construction.” He turns to exit, only stopping at the door when he hears Erik’s next words. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Don’t. I’m still not sure that I’m doing the right thing.” He sighs and his shoulders slump slightly as he leans one arm against the door. “You know if your situations had been reversed he would never have left _you_ like that.” Hank turns to face him and gives him a long look. “Charles trusts people until they give him a reason not to, and that’s what we all love about him. But it’s our job – mine and Sean’s and Alex’s - to protect the Prof. So _we_ don’t trust anyone until they give us a reason to. And you Magneto, have a long way to go before any of us will think about trusting you again.”

***

Charles catches the excitement radiating from Max as he makes his way to the elevator. He knows from both Hank’s and Max’s thoughts that they are in the new installation, watching Erik put the metal structure of the new Cerebro together with his powers. He punches the code impatiently, wishing for a moment that _he_ could move metal and make the damned elevator go faster.

He stays by the door to watch unnoticed as Erik stands at the center of the raised platform, arms outstretched, lifting the floor-to-ceiling metal panels effortlessly around the cavernous room. It’s a sight that Charles never tires of seeing, Erik’s mastery of his gift exemplified with such elegance and control. He clamps down viciously on his emotions and rolls quickly into the room.

“Daddy, look! Papa is helping us build Cerebro! Isn’t it great?”

He smiles at his son and then turns to look at Hank. “Would you mind taking Max upstairs while I have a word with Erik please?”

Max pouts and crosses his arms. “But I want to stay and watch Papa move the metal!”

Charles gives the boy a stern look, but then tugs him closer to give him a hug. “Run along with Hank and I’ll see you shortly. Your Papa and I are just going to talk right now; you’re not going to miss him moving any more of the metal around.”

He waits until Hank and Max are well out of hearing range before he whirls around to face Erik and snaps, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The other man doesn’t react, though he shifts slightly and crosses his arms before answering, “I thought that was quite obvious Charles. I’m helping you build Cerebro.”

He narrows his eyes at his ex-lover and rolls closer until he’s right in front of Erik. “ _Why_ are you helping us build Cerebro?”

“Hank explained it quite well. It would take your team months to do what I can simply do for you in a matter of days.” He grins and bares his teeth at Charles. “It’s a gesture of my good intentions.”

The Professor scoffs and waves his hand distractedly. “You never do anything without a good reason. You only care how something or someone will benefit you and your 'cause'. So tell me, do you want me in your debt? So I'll agree to use Cerebro to find an army for you?”

Erik’s face turns thunderous at his accusation. “I’m not helping you so I can recruit more mutants for the Brotherhood! _Mein Gott_ Charles, I’ve been doing just fine for the last eight years! Can’t you just take this as a gift from me? A small way for me to start making amends for what’s happened between us?”

He smoothes the features on his face and looks up at Erik with a wry smile. “Of course. Thank you for your help it’s much appreciated. Why don’t I go and find Hank and let you get back to it.” He turns his wheelchair around and starts to make his way towards the exit.

Erik's voice is rough and low as he snarls from behind him. “Are you going to run away again? Are you so afraid to face me that you can’t even talk to me? Can’t be in the same room with me without Max around? The Charles Xavier I knew may have been an arrogant fool but he was never a _coward_.”

Charles spins his chair around and glares at the brash, impossible man standing in front of him, the anger that's been simmering for so long ready to boil over. “You want to talk Erik? Fine, let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Erik vs Charles round 2!


	12. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old differences rear their heads between the ex-lovers. And there's a timely return to the mansion.

Erik stares in stunned silence; Charles is radiating anger, his eyes sharp and dilated and biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt as he clenches hard on the arms of his chair.

“Well?” Charles rolls even closer, pushing Erik to take a step backwards or risk being run over. “I’m right here Erik. What exactly do you want to talk about?”

He doesn’t know how to respond to the man sitting in front of him; doesn’t recognize this Charles who is defiant and harsh and full of resentment. It takes Erik a moment to compose himself and with a slight flick of his wrist, he forces the chair to a dead stop.

The look that crosses Charles’ face can only be described as murderous, though his voice is as even and controlled as ever. “Let me go right now Erik, and if you use your powers on me again I will not hesitate to return the favor.”

“Charles...” He releases his hold on the chair and his ex-lover immediately rolls back, putting himself well out of arms reach. Erik sees the wary look on Charles face, as though he’s expecting an attack. He shakes his head in disbelief and his tone softens. “You know I would never hurt you.”

Clearly Charles is rather sceptical of his assertion as he scoffs and levels a disapproving glare. “Do you actually believe the words that come out of your mouth, Erik? Or perhaps you forgot to add 'intentionally' to that sentence.” He leans forward slightly in the chair, eyes bright and mouth pressed into a thin line. “You didn’t _intend_ to put on that ugly helmet to shut me out. You didn’t _intend_ on driving a bloody coin through my head when you killed Shaw. You didn’t _intend_ to put a bullet in my back. You didn’t _intend_ to strand us on the beach without any way of getting back. You didn’t _intend_ to ignore all the letters I sent you about our son.”

“I didn’t...I don’t...” Erik tries to find the words to answer Charles’ accusations, though he knows full well that no excuse would be sufficiently acceptable or satisfactory. Certainly if someone had done the same things to _Erik_ , he wouldn’t have left them alive to hope for understanding and forgiveness.

He’s obviously projecting his thoughts as Charles makes a frustrated noise and rolls his eyes. “You haven’t changed at all have you? Violence is your answer to everything isn’t it? If they wrong you, you kill them. If they even think about harming you, you kill them. Is that what you’ve been doing the last eight years? Just murdering every human that gets in your way? Humans who fear what they don’t understand?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Charles.” His own voice takes on a dangerous edge as he feels his temper spiking. “I made sure every human I killed deserved to die.”

He takes slight satisfaction at the incredulous look on Charles’ face as he continues, “Shall I tell you all the humans I’ve killed? The ones who performed so called experiments on mutants, on children? The ones who beat us into submission and treat us like animals? Lock us in cages and feed us their garbage? Rape and torture us because they can?” He sneers as Charles watches him, impassive, judging. “I killed the ones who ordered the atrocities, not just the ones who committed them. The Brotherhood makes no distinctions when you have mutant blood on your hands.”

“Are you saying you’ve never harmed an innocent person? Someone working a job they thought was rather ordinary and mundane? A book keeper? A receptionist? Security guards and scientists who didn’t know who or what they were guarding or testing? Isn’t it possible in eight years you and your Brotherhood could have murdered people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Charles frowns, his voice tight and controlled.

“There are always sacrifices to be made in war.” Erik brushes the condemnation aside with a wave of his hand. “The humans won’t hesitate to murder every single one of us if they had the chance, innocent or not.”

Charles grits his teeth, reining in his own temper as he answers, “You arrogant bastard! What gives you the right to judge an entire people on the actions of a few? And who are you to make the decisions on what’s acceptable and what’s not on behalf of all mutants? We are not all like you, Magneto! There are those of us who wish to live in peace; teach humans that our gifts are to be embraced and not feared.”

“And will you be the one to educate the world?” Erik takes a step forward, then another until he is close enough to crouch down and place his hands on top of Charles’. He’s surprised and gratified when Charles doesn’t pull away immediately. “How are you teaching humans and mutants co-existence when you’ve done nothing but hide away here at your little school for the gifted?”

Charles has clearly not expected these words, likely anticipating a vicious rebuttal at his accusations. His blue eyes search Erik’s face pointedly for any sign of mockery, face relaxing slightly when he seems to find none. “I publish my ongoing research with the X gene and when the time is right, I plan to reveal myself to the public at large; show them that we have and can co-exist. In the meantime, we build a safe haven for mutants and help them understand our responsibility to protect each other, as well as our human brothers and sisters.”

Erik’s voice is quiet, trying to let his emotions pierce through all of Charles’ defenses. “You would make yourself a target? Reveal to the world your telepathy and have the government lock you up under some false pretenses?” He twines their fingers together, grasping both of Charles’ hands within his own, making him inhale sharply. “The governments of the world will only see you as a threat. They’ll scare the public with stories that all mutants are abnormal degenerates, stir anti-mutant resentments until no one will bat an eyelash when they round us up into camps and then proceed to exterminate every last one of us.”

Charles grips their hands tightly and shakes his head, staring at Erik with an earnest expression so reminiscent of their early days together, working with the CIA. “No, there will be many on our side, Erik. Humans with family and friends who are mutants; who love and are loved by our kind. They are our mothers and our fathers; our brothers, our sisters, our spouses. Not all of them will choose to hate us, as not all mutants choose to hate them.”

“You live a fool’s dream my brave Professor X.” He brushes a light kiss on the back of Charles hand and feels a slight shiver from the touch. “Those who claim to be on our side will cower at the first show of force by their own people. In the end they will make up sufficient reasons to justify their cowardice and then wipe their hands of us. We don’t _need_ them Charles.”

“You’re wrong Erik. Humans give birth to mutants and mutants give birth to humans. We are not so different from them, my friend.” He pulls one of his hands out of Erik’s grasp and then brushes it lightly across the other man’s clean shaven cheek. “Tell me something. What would you have done if Max had not been born a mutant? Would he be inconsequential to you then? Would you be willing to sacrifice his life for the greater good as you say?”

Erik’s breath catches but he doesn’t hesitate before responding. “I love Max for the boy that he is, not for his ability. I would love him exactly the same if he wasn’t a mutant. And I would kill anyone who ever tried to hurt our son.”

Charles gives him a sardonic smile and chuckles. “You don’t think that’s a little hypocritical and contrary to everything you’ve just been saying?”

“Perhaps,” Erik acknowledges with a slight nod and a wry smile of his own. “I`ve never pretended to be particularly fair minded. But let me ask you something.” His gaze turns sharp and assessing and he presses himself close enough to feel Charles’ breath against his cheek. “What would you do if the humans came and took Max away? Experimented on him the way you and I had been abused as children? Would you still turn a blind eye to their evil, Charles? Forgive them for not understanding us when it’s our son they cut open and bleed in the name of science?"

The look on Charles’ face is foreign, and a little disconcerting, his eyes gleaming with a cold intensity that freezes Erik in place. He wonders if his ex-lover is imagining the horrors in Erik’s words or reliving the memories of their own suffering as children. “I will never let any harm come to Max,” Charles whispers, voice low and ragged. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, no one I wouldn’t... _stop,_ to keep our son safe.”

For long moments their quickened breaths are the only sounds in the cavernous room, echoing off the walls and ceiling. This close, Erik can feel the iron in Charles’ blood racing and his own heart is constricting painfully in his chest. He can feel the intensity of Charles’ presence pulsing on the periphery of his mind, as though he’s straining to hold himself back from diving deep inside Erik’s head.

His words sound ironic and slightly amused as he answers, “Well at least there’s one thing we can both agree on.”

Charles lets out a self-deprecating laugh and slips his hands out from between Erik’s. “Yes, Max is the only thing we have in common now.” He starts to pull away, trying to put some distance again between them both. “I should go...”

“Charles...”

“...thank you for your help with Cerebro. Hank has been working on this newest version for years...”

“...don’t do this...”

“...he says I should be able to extend my range to cover the entire planet...”

“Stop.” Erik reaches with both hands to grip the armrests before Charles can roll away again. “Please stop running away from me.” Charles doesn’t answer, though he makes no further attempt to extricate himself. “I...owe you an apology.”

Charles' face is unreadable, but his eyes give him away now as easily as they did eight years ago. The emotion there is barely contained; storm brewing over an expanse of deep, blue sea. “You’ll have to pardon me if I ask you to be more specific, Erik. I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“For all the things I’ve done to hurt you. I know it doesn’t change what’s happened but I _am_ sorry. And the letters...I didn’t throw them out. I didn’t read them because I--”

“No.” Charles takes a deep breath and exhales, rubbing his temple as he continues, “I won’t go down this road with you, Erik. I don’t want to hear your justifications or your lies. It’s meaningless now anyway; things ended before they really had a chance to start. And I don’t feel like indulging your unburdening now just so you can feel better.”

“I have never lied to you,” Erik snaps, anger and despair warring in his head at Charles’ words. “I hurt you, horribly, maybe unforgivably but I’ve never lied about anything! I told you all along what the hunt for Shaw meant to me; how I felt about humans and what they'll do to our people.”

Charles sounds tired and resigned when he answers, “You told me you loved me.”

Erik falls onto his knees in front of the chair and reaches to grasp the other man’s hands again. “That’s because I _did,_ Charles. I did love you. I _do_ love you.”

“How can you still lie to me after all this time?” Charles shakes his head and chuckles mirthlessly. “How could you have possibly loved me, when it was so easy to leave me?”

“No!” Erik’s denial is vehement; he can’t begin to fathom Charles’ misunderstanding of his feelings. “It wasn’t easy for me to leave! I didn’t _want_ to leave you, I had no choice! How can you think after everything we shared that I don’t love you?”

Charles scoffs and tries to shove Erik away from him. “I’ve had eight years to think about it, without any word from you. It’s really the only reasonable conclusion to make isn’t it?”

He is completely blindsided by Charles’ words; Erik had expected anger and resentment for his actions, for the role he played in his ex-lover’s paralysis and the inadvertent abandonment of their son. But love...there was never any doubt in his mind of their connection; of his deep, abiding love for Charles Xavier.

He doesn’t think; just reacts instinctively and throws himself forward to grasp Charles’ face with both hands. Erik kisses him; crushes their lips together and pours every lonely night, every sorrow and regret and love and wonder into the connection between them. He feels Charles stiffen for a moment, before parting his lips with a low moan and allowing Erik to deepen the kiss.

The world narrows into a single point in time and Erik lets everything else fade into the emptiness around them. Their separate lives, their causes, their issues; there is nothing but the feel of Charles’ plush, red lips on his own, the taste of Charles as he plunders the sweet, wet warmth of his mouth. Hands tug impatiently on Erik’s shirt, pulling him forward until he’s practically draped over Charles in the chair. The kiss goes on and on, harsh panting breaths filling the cavernous space until Charles abruptly stops and pushes Erik off of him.

He turns himself around and rolls out the door without a word, leaving Erik breathless and bewildered on the cold stone floor.

***

Charles makes his way back up to the main level of the mansion as quickly as he can, heart racing and mind reeling from the kiss. He can’t breathe; he wants to open his heart, his mind, his body to Erik and beg the man to stay and share his life with him and Max.

He berates himself for his naivety, for wanting something that can never be and by the time he reaches his office he is almost back in control of his emotions. Charles is sure that Erik will leave soon to go back to the Brotherhood; he just needs to make it through the next few days or weeks without humiliating himself further with more ridiculous behavior.

It’s a testament to how distracted he is that it takes a moment before he realizes there’s another person in his office. The voice behind him is low and gruff, sending a slight shiver down his spine. “What’s got you all in a huff there, Chuck?”

Charles spins himself around and smiles at the figure leaning lithe and relaxed against the book case beside the door. “Oh thank fuck, you’re here.”

***

Erik slowly wanders back up to the mansion, totally engrossed in thought. He doesn’t know what happened; one minute he and Charles are in each other’s arms and the next he’s alone in the room, head spinning from the other man’s rejection. Why does Charles insist on being so stubborn? Why won’t he just talk to him? He doesn’t know how to make Charles listen; to just stop pushing him away and let Erik explain and try to make amends. What does he need to do to convince Charles that he’s sincere? That he wants to be a part of their lives and be a real father to Max?

He heads to the study, hoping to catch Charles there and continue their conversation but finds the room empty. Erik goes to the office next, knowing that he’s been spending an inordinate amount of time there lately specifically to avoid him. He approaches the door and is about to knock, when he hears a loud crash coming from inside the room. He unlocks the door with a bare flick of his wrist and storms in, worried that something has happened to Charles.

There are papers and books strewn all over the floor and Charles is laying on the desk, a muscled man in a tank top and jeans sprawled on top of him. The collar of Charles' shirt is yanked half off his shoulder and his arms are wrapped behind the man’s neck. They are both staring at him, Charles with a look of surprise and the stranger with an irritated scowl.

“Hey bub,” he growls, giving Erik an annoyed glare. “Get the fuck out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Logan is here and it's going to get messy. Sorry for another cliffhanger chapter but I had this scene written 4 chapters ago and...well I hope you liked it! Part 2 of the confrontation is next!


	13. Logan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik meets Logan. And Charles and Erik finally address the rest of their issues. It gets ugly, fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 chapters and we've suddenly jumped from a Teen to Mature rating! Warnings ahead for sex and lots of swearing because well, Logan's in this chapter.
> 
> Edited to add: Regarding Logan's background, I'm not really following any of the plot from the Wolverine Origins movie. Just took some basic timelines (i.e. he doesn't get the adamantium skeleton until I think around 1980?) and the bone claws. In the overall scheme of things in this 'verse, Logan will still get the metal infusion eventually but it won't be part of this story!

“Oh thank fuck, you’re here.”

Charles grins broadly as Logan reaches over to lock the door, then pushes himself off the wall and stalks towards him. Placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, he leans forward into Charles’ space until they’re almost nose to nose. Charles sucks in a breath at the heady scent of musk and sweat and looks up through his long lashes. “Logan.”

“Professor.” The word is a soft growl across Logan’s lips as he brushes his nose lightly against the shell of Charles’ ear. “Did you miss me?”

“Hmm...” He tilts his head slightly to the side and Logan promptly licks a swath of smooth, pale skin. “Of course, but I thought you’d be gone for a while yet.”

“I called last week. Sean answered, said I should make my way back.” He picks Charles up from the chair, wrapping his legs around his waist as the Professor throws his arms around Logan’s neck. “Didn’t say why, just suggested I do it soon.”

He swings them both easily towards the oak desk and sets Charles down gently on the edge, pressing himself firmly between the other man’s legs. Confident hands slide slowly up Logan’s chest to his shoulders, slipping the leather jacket off to reveal the rippling muscles underneath.

“I’ll tell you everything later.”

“Good. We got better things to do than talk.”

Charles gives him a soft, seductive smile and licks his lips, and Logan is on him, claiming his mouth in a bruising kiss that has them both moaning in pleasure. Rough calloused hands are gripping him tightly, sliding up to tug at his collar and yanking hard, _exposing Charles’ neck and shoulder to a sharp bite that drags a wounded gasp from his lips._

_“Fuck Charles, you feel so good on my cock.” Erik thrusts harder, shoving him down on the desk and throwing a leg over his shoulder. He rocks his hips in and out, sliding Charles along the hard, wooden surface. “You like that? Like it when I fuck you like this? In your office where one of the kids can walk in and see you, all spread out and fucked open for me?”_

_“God Erik...” Charles can’t stifle the noises coming out of his mouth as Erik grabs both his wrists, pinning them down on either side of his head. He tries to lift up slightly, arching his back and thrusting against Erik who is pumping wildly in and out of him. “Yes...ah!”_

_Erik crushes their mouths together again and Charles can hardly breathe with the intensity of everything he’s feeling. His whole body is on fire, every nerve raw and exposed as he gives himself over to the moment completely._

_“Say it Charles. Say that you’re mine.”_

_“Oh god! I’m...I’m yours.”_

_“Only mine. Always. Ugh...no one else.”_

_“Erik...ah! Erik...no one else...”_

_He lets go of one of Charles’ wrists to shove a thick stack of books off the desk, the large crash reverberating in the room. Charles opens his eyes_ and looks up at Logan, then pulls him down to wrap his arms around the burly man’s neck and grips him tightly by his hair.

In the very next instant, Charles’ whole body tenses as he’s hit with a storm of _anxietyhurtCharles_ from the looming presence just outside his office.

And then the door slams open.

***

Logan knows, the moment he sees him, that the wiry, dark haired man barging into Charles’ office like he owns the place is the infamous Magneto.

He’s never met Erik Lehnsherr, not counting that rather short recruiting attempt the former partners made years ago. The Prof. loves to remind Logan of his reaction to their first meeting, laughing at the irony over a shared beer or after a satisfying tumble in the sack.

He’s certainly _heard_ enough about Magneto though, in the last three years since he’s joined Charles – on and off – at the School. Logan knows too fucking much about the CIA and Shaw and Cuba from the Prof’s ‘kids’; more than enough to know that Lehnsherr is bad news.

The man’s face is a riot of emotions, flashing quickly from concern to shock to silent fury as his eyes rake over Charles' body, sprawled on top of the desk. Logan can practically smell the rage and jealousy pouring off of Lehnsherr and decides to have some fun with him.

He hasn’t had a good fight in weeks.

“Hey bub. Get the fuck out.”

Lehnsherr’s eyes narrow as he takes a step closer instead, every single piece of metal in the room vibrating around them. “Get your hands off of him, _now_.”

Logan pointedly ignores him, wrapping one arm around Charles’ back and lifting him gently until he’s sitting up on the desk. The Professor runs a hand quickly over his disheveled hair and adjusts the collar on his rumpled shirt.

“Erik, stop. It’s fine.”

The man’s eyes are wild and predatory, never leaving Logan’s face as he snaps, “No. It’s not _fine_ Charles. Who the fuck is he?”

Charles sighs. “Erik, this is Logan. Logan, Erik Lehnsherr. Logan teaches classes at the School sometimes.”

Lehnsherr crosses his arms and sneers, expression superior and smug. “You don’t look like much of a teacher. What exactly do you teach here?"

“Art,” he growls, extending the bone claws from his knuckles with a grin and cracking his neck for good measure. “And self-defense.”

The voice that pops into his head sounds tired and a bit anxious, though outwardly, Charles appears as unflappable as ever. _Logan, please. Stop baiting him._

_Are you sure? I could kick his ass for you, teach him a lesson._

_Thank you but no. I can handle him._

_I just bet you can, Chuck. I can smell him all over you._

He snorts and Lehnsherr looks back and forth between them, his expression going from annoyed to thunderous. “Care to fill me in?”

Logan grins again as the Professor shoots him an embarrassed look. _I can explain. It wasn’t..._

_It’s alright, Chuck. We said no commitments. No explanations._

Charles looks relieved at Logan's response and turns to address Erik. “I was just asking Logan if he wouldn’t mind giving us a moment.”

“Yes _Logan._ ” The sarcasm is practically oozing off Lehnsherr now. “Run along now so Charles and I can finish our conversation.”

Retracting his claws, he lets his smile widen further before turning to lift Charles off the desk bridal style, and place him into the wheelchair. He ignores the mental eye roll leveled his way and crouches close beside the Prof. Grabbing his leather jacket off the floor, he reaches for Charles with his other hand and kisses the inside of the man’s wrist, rolling the soft flesh intimately between his fingers. “Sure Chuck. You and I can finish our _conversation_ later.”

Logan chuckles at the sight of a flustered Charles turning bright red and Lehnsherr glaring daggers at the entire damn universe. He gives them both a mock salute and heads out, closing the door to the office behind him.

For a moment, he considers hanging around to keep an eye on things; there’s no doubt in Logan’s mind that Lehnsherr is a dangerous man. And then he remembers who else is in the room and promptly turns to head upstairs.

The Prof. is gonna wipe the floor with Lehnsherr. Logan almost wishes he could stay and watch.

***

Charles is mortified at his lack of self-control. How could he not have heard Erik outside the door? For fuck’s sake he’s a telepath!

He looks over at Erik who is staring at him, eyes burning with fierce hurt and anger. Charles knows he should try and explain; how their kiss earlier had confused and distracted him and that he hadn’t meant for Erik to walk in on him and Logan.

“Erik, I didn’t--”

“Just what the hell are you trying to do Charles? Did you arrange that little stunt to humiliate me?”

He stutters slightly, bewildered by the accusation. “Wh...what? No! I wouldn’t--”

Erik crosses the room and crouches in front of Charles, grabbing both of his biceps in an iron grip. “Are you trying to make a fool out of me? I told you I still loved you not ten minutes ago! And you kissed me! And then I find you in here with that brute with his hands all over you!”

Charles glares, pulling his arms out of the other man’s hold. “You kissed _me_. And I didn’t know that Logan was back until I got here. And you didn’t even knock you just barged in!”

“I thought you were _hurt,_ ” Erik growls, the words delivered through gritted teeth. “How was I to know you’d be in here fucking the _help_.”

“You _bastard._ ” Charles is absolutely livid. “You stupid, arrogant bastard! It’s none of your business what I do with my personal life! You don’t get to judge me! I haven’t seen you in eight fucking years you don’t get to waltz in here and make snide remarks about me or who I sleep with!”

Erik pushes himself up and stalks to the opposite end of the room, pacing back and forth. “I was merely commenting on your new recruiting strategy, Charles. Do you fuck all your teachers to get them to stay on?”

The tone in Charles’ voice turns ice cold as he responds, “No. I’ve learned my lesson there. It certainly didn’t work with you, did it?” He rolls forward, face hard and expressionless. “And I’m not the only one who’s seduced a willing body to their side, am I?”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Erik shakes his head at him and continues to pace around the room like a caged tiger.

Charles grits his teeth and sends him Raven’s memories of the night before Cuba, shoving them none too gently into Erik’s mind.

_Raven, naked in Erik’s bed._

_“Well, this is a surprise.”_

_“The nice kind?”_

_Raven shifts into her natural blue form._

_“Perfection.”_

_“You're an exquisite creature, Raven. All your life the world's tried to tame you. It's time for you to be free.”_

_Erik leans forward and kisses her._

Charles feels a vicious satisfaction at the stunned look on Erik’s face. He folds his hands in his lap and stares up at the man he used to long so badly to have at his side.

“You seduced my _sister_. You left the study after our argument and you found her in your room and you seduced her! You told her what she wanted to hear, and did what she wanted you to do so that when you _left_ , you knew she would go with you!”

Erik doesn’t answer him and Charles knows – he _knows_ in that moment that his suspicions all these years were absolutely true. He had always planned to leave Charles; Erik had known he was never going to stay.

“Charles.” Erik looks as gutted as he feels and Charles thinks he may have accidentally projected those last thoughts. “I had no choice. I didn’t _want_ to leave...”

“ _Shut up._ ” He’s barely holding himself back from lashing out at his ex-lover. “You knew you would leave no matter what happened with Shaw. You kissed my sister and then you came back to my room and you fucked me...” Charles chokes back a sob. “And all along you knew you weren’t coming back.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Erik snarls, his frustration warring with his guilt. “I asked you, on the beach. I begged you! I wanted you by my side and you turned me away!”

Charles barely hears the words, his thoughts focused thousands of miles away, eight years ago on a sandy beach. “You’ve never trusted me. You put on that helmet because you didn’t want to risk me stopping you from killing Shaw. And even after you killed him, you didn’t take it off.”

“You _did_ try to stop me Charles! You tried to stop me from sending the missiles back and you would have tried to stop me from killing Shaw!” Erik looks wrecked and he moves next to Charles again, crouching in front of the chair to look him in the eye. “I couldn’t let him get away again Charles. I’m sorry but I couldn’t...not even for you.”

He sighs and rubs his temple tiredly before returning Erik’s gaze. “And that’s the difference between you and me, Erik. You wouldn’t give up on killing Shaw for me, but I helped kill him for _you_ , didn’t I? When I was forced to choose, I chose _you_ , against my own principles and I helped you kill a man in cold blood. And when you had to choose...well, we know how that ended.”

“Charles, please...” Erik tries to hold his hand, only for Charles to push him away. “I _love_ you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I--”

“Get out.” He rolls towards the window, turning his back before Erik has a chance to see the devastation on his face. “I don’t want you here.”

A few moments of silence and then the door behind him closes softly with a click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this update! I'm going to go and eat a giant tub of ice cream now because ugh...I'm kind of dying a little from the angst. :)


	14. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max pulls Raven into his schemes. Erik talks about the night before the beach and Logan gets the Professor to open up about his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but I really had some trouble with this chapter. I'm still not sure it's exactly the way I want it but...well I hope there's enough here to engage you.
> 
> For anyone who's interested, I've written a couple of drabbles from this 'verse that [you can find here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501139/chapters/879788%20%20)
> 
> The first chapter is a short bit from Erik's perspective and the second is a backstory about Logan meeting Charles. Feel free to drop me a prompt in the Comments section if there's something you'd like to see (I can't guarantee it of course but suggestions are always welcome!!)

“Aunt Raven? Do you...can I tell you something?”

Max wanders into the corner of the library where she's currently seated, flipping through the well worn pages of her favorite book. Her over-stuffed armchair is still in the same spot, right beside the window with a gorgeous, unobstructed view of the stone fountain she loved so much growing up.

She puts the book down and watches the little boy with interest as he drops to the floor in front of her and sighs, looking discouraged and not a little troubled. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

He looks up at her with those wide, blue eyes and Raven is reminded of fond childhood memories of her and Charles, curled up by the fireplace as he read her story after story of princesses and ogres and happily ever afters.

“I think I might have done something bad.”

Raven slips off the chair to join Max on the floor, pulling the boy onto her lap. “Oh? What did you do?”

He blushes, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he explains, “Ororo and I came up with a plan to get Papa and Daddy back together again. We asked Hank to get Papa's help with Cerebro, and we thought that would make Daddy really happy and they would talk to each other and fix things! But then Daddy came down to Cerebro and asked to speak with Papa alone and he didn't look happy at all. I couldn't tell what they said because Daddy blocked most of it but I could feel the feelings and they were both really upset.”

She rubs Max's back lightly to reassure him as she answers, “I'm sure they'll be fine. You were just trying to help Erik and Charles work things out.” Her mind helpfully supplies a sarcastic _'God knows they need it'_ though she smiles sweetly at her nephew. “Just...try not to worry too much about it and give them some time to sort through their feelings okay?”

Max gives her a dubious glance before training those baby blues on her, looking nervous but determined. “Do you think you could talk to Papa for me? Make sure he's not mad?” And then he tilts his head to the side and smiles ever so sweetly at her. “And maybe you could find out what happened too? And then help me and 'Ro with our plan?”

“Oh I see.” She chuckles and leans closer to whisper in his ear, “You want me to be your _spy_.”

He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tight and begs, “Will you help us Aunt Raven? _Please_?”

Raven looks at the earnest expression on his face and sighs. “Oh alright, I'll go talk to your Papa and see what I can do.”

“Thanks Aunt Raven!” Max kisses her on the cheek before scrambling to his feet, knocking her book off the armrest in his haste. He bends to pick it up and reads the title out loud, “Wuthering Heights? I haven't read this one yet. What's it about?”

“Love.” She takes the book from him and they head out of the library together, hand in hand. “And how in life, you don't always get a happy ending.”

***

As it turns out, she doesn't have to go looking for Magneto; he's the one that comes to her.

“We're leaving.”

She's sitting on the bed with her book, ready to settle in for the night when he breezes in with barely a knock on the door. The man is radiating tension so palpable that Raven thinks he might be seconds away from spontaneously combusting all over her freshly laundered sheets.

She sighs. “What did you do?”

He stops his pacing abruptly and whips his head around to glare at her. “ _I_ didn't do anything.”

Another sigh. “Alright, what did Charles do?”

He growls, teeth clenched but doesn't answer, resuming his agitated pacing back and forth in front of her bed.

“Magneto.” She waits, and then, “Erik!”

“Your brother is being impossible!” His voice is barely audible, tone razor sharp and dangerous. His eyes are tracking an imaginary face, and he’s only half speaking to her as he continues, “I knew this was never going to work! I can't stay here and be around...ridiculous to think we could work things out...”

She's discovered over the years that the best way to handle a Magneto on the edge is not to fight with him. The less than a handful of times she's witnessed it happen - the rare occasions where his emotions won out over his strict, self-imposed discipline - it had been...ugly. Broken bodies and gutted buildings torn from their foundations.

“If we're going to leave...” He narrows his eyes at her as she speaks softly, voice laced with a determined edge, “we should wait until morning to say a proper goodbye. You can't just pick up and go right this instant.” She cuts him off before he can interrupt. “You can't do that to Max.”

The words are like magic and Raven can see the pent up anger slowly drain out of Erik's body the moment she mentions the little boy's name. He rubs his face and drops down, boneless onto the armchair beside the bed. “Mein Gott...Max. What...I don't know what to do. I...I can't do this...”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He looks impossibly tired and defeated, as if he's just come back from one of the Brotherhood's missions gone wrong. “I kissed Charles.”

Well that's certainly a _huge_ development, though...how spectacularly bad was the kiss to warrant this kind of response? She waits for him to continue but he just sits there, numbly staring at his hands. “So you kissed him. And...?”

“And he kissed me back. Then he pushed me away and left without a word. And _then_ I found him in his office and he was...ugh! With some idiot redneck neanderthal.”

It takes her a few moments to decipher his words. “Wait, wait, wait. Charles was in his office...you walked in on him with another guy? Oh my god, who?”

He glares at her again, eyes narrowed and waving his hand impatiently. “I don't know, some thug with sideburns and claws! It's not like we all sat around together and had afternoon tea!”

“Lots of muscles? Dark hair, crazy eyes?” Erik nods briskly at the description and Raven laughs. “His name's Logan. I saw him once out in the field with the X-Men.” She whistles appreciatively and tosses her book on the nightstand. “He's smoking hot. Nice job, Charles.”

Raven knows – _knows_ she shouldn’t rub salt in his wounds but she’s made peace long ago with the fact that she's not a particularly _nice_ person. She tilts her head slightly and gives him a sly grin. “Well at least you know he still goes for the same type.”

The murderous look she gets from Magneto would have made anyone else fear for their life and it's a testament to their bond that he allows her this light teasing in private. Raven rolls her eyes and crosses her arms when he doesn't stop glaring at her.

“Seriously? It's been _eight years_ since you two were together. Did you really think he was going to wait around for you forever? And I know you've been with other people too so don't be such a hypocrite and stop judging my brother. Not for this.”

“It...those others were completely meaningless! I didn't sleep with anyone in the Brotherhood! And I certainly didn't bring any of them _home_ , have them work beside me and let them spend time with _my son!_ ”

“And that's your choice. Just like whatever Logan is to Charles is his choice. You and I stopped having any kind of say in his life the moment we walked away from him.” She reaches over to take his hand, squeezing it lightly and her tone softens. “I know this is hard for you but we came here for Max, so we can get to know him. Do you really want to just leave like this because you and Charles can’t get it together?”

He looks so lost and conflicted that Raven can't help but feel some pangs of sympathy. “No, I don't want to leave Max _or_ Charles.” He straightens, taking a deep breath as though he’s just made some terrible, important decision. “But we'll have to eventually, won't we? We can't just stay here indefinitely; we have the Brotherhood to run.”

“Have you considered running the Brotherhood here? From the mansion? Isn't there some way for you and Charles to compromise and work together? It doesn't have to be one or the other Erik. You _do_ both want the same things.”

Erik snorts. “I can't even get Charles to stay in the same room with me when Max isn't around, let alone have a proper discussion about us working together.” She rolls her eyes at him as his frown turns decidedly closer to a pout. “He’s being so stubborn. He refuses to listen to anything I have to say and he just... _dismisses_ me like I’m one of his precious students.”

Raven has wondered, many times over the years, how these two brilliant, charismatic men can inspire such devoted loyalty and fierce respect from their followers, yet be utterly incapable of communicating with one another.

“What are you saying to him exactly? What is he refusing to hear?”

“That I’m sorry for Cuba; for hurting him. That I didn’t mean to ignore the letters he wrote about Max.” He rubs his face and sighs. “Nothing I say is getting through to him. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, Mystique.”

It takes a great deal of willpower to overcome the urge to call him an idiot. “Erik, of course he wants you here. Charles has _always_ wanted you; you were the one who chose to leave and strike your own path.” She waves away his indignant scowl and continues unfazed, “He’s expecting, waiting, for you to walk away again. He doesn’t trust that you’ll be there for him or Max so why would he open himself up to you? Plus you haven’t given him any indication that you want to be here beyond the immediate future.”

She watches as Erik digests the words, expression moving from thoughtful to frustrated. “Why didn’t he just tell me that? He’s never been afraid to say what's on his mind. I don’t understand why he’s doing it now.” He huffs and crosses his arms indignantly. “It’s not like _I_ can read his mind. I’m not the telepath here.”

“He’s not the same man you remember Erik.” She gets up and wanders over to the window, leaning against the frame. “Charles is...harder now. Not as easy going or willing to forgive. He’s not going to help you figure things out or do everything he can to make you feel welcome and wanted like he did when he first met you. You’re going to have to try a lot more to meet him half way.”

“He forgave you pretty quickly didn't he?”

Raven shakes her head. “No, he hasn’t, not really. I think we cleared the air when I let him read me and I told him why I left, but it hasn’t miraculously fixed everything between us.” She reaches to take a sip from the cup of tea she's been neglecting. “We have lunch everyday. And we talk about Max and the School and sometimes about our lives before I left. But he never mentions anything about Cuba or you or the Brotherhood and he's ever so polite and distant and it's like he's looking at me through a thick pane of glass. I don't know if things will ever be okay again between us.”

Erik surprises her when he stands and crosses the room next, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder at her words. “Charles...he accused me of seducing you, the night before Cuba. That what I said and did was the reason you followed me.” His eyes soften with a hint of sadness, expression tight. “It wasn’t my intention to take you away from your brother or to mislead you. And if I did I owe you an apology.”

Raven laughs and it’s tinged with a touch of bitterness and regret. “You didn’t seduce me, Erik. I wanted to leave and you were a convenient excuse. Neither you nor Charles are to blame for my choices, _my_ decisions. Though...” she pokes him in the chest with a long finger and teases, “you could have mentioned something about sleeping with my brother when I showed up in your bed. And you know, maybe _not_ kiss me.”

The answer falls a little too quickly and easily from Magneto’s lips. “I just wanted you to feel appreciated, know how beautiful you are in your true form.”

“Bullshit,” Raven says, gratified to see the surprise on his face. “You didn’t need to kiss me to do that. You could have patted me on the head and sent me on my way with a few choice words about the color of my skin and not having to hide. So why did you kiss me? When you were obviously in love with Charles?”

Raven half expects him to turn and walk out of the room; Erik has never been one to talk about his feelings or to willingly subject himself or his actions to scrutiny. She waits in silence and watches as he considers his answer.

“That night, Charles and I argued. About Shaw, about the humans.” He turns away from her to look out the window, avoiding her eyes. “I was angry. No, not about what Charles said,” he answers her unspoken question and continues on, “but I was angry at what he did. What I did.” Erik lets out a huff of breath and presses his palms on the windowsill. “Things were simple before I met your brother, Mystique. I had one purpose; to find Shaw and kill him. Charles, he made me question everything. He bulldozed his way into my life, demanding that I join his mad mission to recruit mutants for the CIA. He told me I wasn't alone; made me feel a part of something for the first time since my parents died and I didn't think – didn't _know_ \- I could possibly want anything in the world as much as I wanted him.”

He starts pacing again, hands tugging at the sleeves of his turtleneck and Raven doesn't think she's ever seen Erik so open, so unguarded. And now that he's started talking, it seems like a dam has broken and all of it – everything he's held back and not allowed himself to acknowledge - comes rushing out all at once.

“I woke up one day and realized that I loved Charles. _Loved_ him. It was ludicrous, I didn't want to love him!” He stops to look directly at her and Raven is genuinely shocked at the words that follow. “Do you know what I learned from that bastard Shaw? That loving someone makes you weak, vulnerable. If you love someone, they can be used against you, taken away from you. We were on our way to confront Shaw and your brother was a distraction I couldn't afford. So I kissed you to prove to myself that I could, that I didn't care...”

“Oh god.” She shakes her head and drops down on the bed. “That is so messed up.”

Erik grimaces and rubs a hand over his face. “I'm sorry. The things I said to you weren't lies. But Charles...”

“Did you ever tell him? That you loved him? Before we left?”

“Yes.” He hesitates for a moment. “I wanted him to know, to never wonder, if something happened when we confronted Shaw.”

It stings, hearing these revelations first hand, and it makes the events and the decisions made in Cuba even more baffling. “I honestly don't get it. If you felt this way about Charles – and I assume the feelings were mutual – why did we leave?” The _'Why did you leave him?'_ hangs unspoken but almost tangible in the air between them.

“I may love him, Raven, but I'm not oblivious to his shortcomings, or my own for that matter.” Erik crosses the room and sits in the chair beside her. “He said he knew everything about me, the good and the bad. He deluded himself into thinking he could love and accept me for what I am because he'd seen everything he thought I was capable of. But there's a line that he tells himself that he won't cross, will never cross; he'd never willingly sacrifice a human life to save a mutant one. And I knew there would be a day when I would cross that line and he would send me away.” He arches a brow at her and his smile is hard and bitter. “It just happened sooner than either of us expected.”

“What about now?” Raven sits on the bed across from him, curious to hear the answer to her question. “What do you want Erik? Do you want him back?”

“ _Wanting_ Charles has never been the problem.”

She rubs her forehead and sighs, then leans back and rests her hands on the bed. “God why do you two have to make everything so complicated?” Shaking her head she jumps in before Erik can respond, “Never mind, don't answer that. Maybe you should be having this conversation with Charles, yes? Just tell him what you told me, that you still love him and you want to try to find some middle ground.”

Erik scowls. “What about Logan?”

“What about him? He's the least of your problems.” Raven drums her fingers absently on the bed spread. “I don't think there's any hope of you and Charles getting back together until you figure out a way to co-exist, to be parents to Max. You need to work on earning his trust back.”

He rolls his eyes at her and barks, “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

She winks at him and smiles, “I think you might be getting some help with that.”

***

“So you want to talk about it, Chuck?”

Logan watches as the Prof. shifts from his chair to the bed, sliding himself deftly back under the blankets. He hands Charles a glass of scotch and then swallows what's left of his own drink, the alcohol burning tracks down his throat.

“Really Logan? We're naked in bed and you want to talk?” The Prof. chuckles and takes a sip of his scotch, leaning his head back against the pillow. “What do you say we skip the talking and go again.”

He's almost tempted to take Charles up on his offer; it's not as though he's particularly interested in hearing about Lehnsherr. But the Prof. is his friend – one of the few people he actually likes and maybe the only person he trusts – and he finds himself wanting to help. “I got the basics from Sean and Alex at dinner. So you can skip the hows and whys and just tell me what's going on in that big brain of yours.”

“Nothing really.” And if Logan didn't know the Prof. better he might actually have believed him. “Erik will leave any day now and then things can go back to normal. We'll need to figure out some sort of schedule for visitations of course; I want Max to be able to see him as often as he can, provided it's here at the School where I know it's safe.”

He rolls his eyes at Charles' obvious attempt at deflection. “Well that's good for Max but what about you?” He grabs the bottle from the nightstand and refills their glasses. “And don't try and bullshit me, Chuck. Something happened between you two today that's got you all hot and bothered. And I didn't need that performance in bed just now to tell me he's getting to you.”

Logan watches as Charles' pale skin flushes a beautiful shade of red. “I'm sorry, it's not...nothing happened...he just kissed me.”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“Yes?”

He's glad that the Prof. lets him see this side of him, the man behind all those cardigans and lectures and proper British manners. Charles wears his Professor X persona like a second skin, and few people ever see past the aura of confidence and patience he projects. “Listen, do you want me to talk to him? Explain about you and me? That it's, you know, an arrangement between friends?”

Charles snorts and starts laughing at Logan's offer. “Oh god, I...sorry I just couldn't help imagining Erik's face...” He pitches his voice lower to imitate Logan's drawl. _“Listen bub, the Prof. and I, we just fuck sometimes cause it feels good alright? It's no big deal.”_

Logan grins and throws an arm around Charles' shoulders. “So...I take it that wouldn't help things between the two of you?”

“Look, there's no 'thing' between Erik and I; that was all in the past. The only thing we have to talk about now is Max. What you and I have or don't have is nobody's business. Certainly not his.”

He shrugs and nudges the Prof. with his elbow. “I think you're kidding yourself if you think there's nothing there. Pretty obvious to me he still has strong opinions about who should or shouldn't have his hands on you.”

Charles sniffs at his drink, taking another sip and doesn't answer.

“Come on, Chuck.” Logan grabs the hand that's holding Charles' drink, forcing him to look in his eye as he pushes, “You can trust me. I won't tell anyone.”

The expression on Charles' face falls and he pulls his hand away from Logan. “I don't know how to deal with it.”

“With what?”

Charles sighs and rubs his temple. “I don't know how to stop being angry with what they did Logan. Sometimes when I see Erik and Raven, I...part of me still hates that they left me. That they abandoned us on the beach. Left me to deal with losing my legs and a pregnancy for fuck sakes, by myself. I don't know how I'm supposed to get over it.”

Logan grimaces and then reaches to top up the Prof.'s drink. “You got a right to be upset.”

“Pfft, I know that. But I teach Max and our students the importance of forgiveness and compassion for others, and after all this time I still can't seem to find any for my sister or the father of my son. Doesn't that make me the worst kind of hypocrite?”

“Nah.” Logan pats him on the arm, causing Charles to snort in amusement at his awkward attempt to comfort him. “I say it makes you human.”

He gets up off the bed and stoops to pick up his shirt off the ground, turning to Charles as he shrugs it over his head. “Maybe you should talk to Lehnsherr and your sister and tell them what you just said. Seems to me you'll never feel better if you don't deal with it head on.” He leans down and drags Charles into a kiss, dragging a long, pleasured moan from his lips. “Let me know if you need me to kick the crap out of him for you.”

“Aren't you going to stay the night?”

Logan arches an eyebrow at the Prof. and tilts his head towards the direction of the door. “What about Lehnsherr?”

“What about him?” Logan doesn’t miss the steel behind the light and breezy tone. “I told you I don’t care what he thinks.”

“Sure Chuck, I’m game.” He falls back into bed and pulls the other man close and does not ask out loud why a guy as smart as the Professor bothers lying to himself.

***

_It's always the same._

_The sun shines down, relentless, from a cloudless blue sky. The smell of charred metal and leaked fuel permeates the air. He and Charles, together and apart, taking measured steps across the hot sand._

_They say the same words to one another; fight the same fight. And the outcome is always the same, no matter how many times the scene unfolds._

_The gun fires. Bullets ricochet, deflected from one and embedded in the other._

_He wants to scream but he can’t find his voice and Charles is falling...falling..._

_He cradles the body, rolling him over to look into those cerulean blue eyes..._

_And the face that looks up at him...achingly familiar, but not the same..._

_He says the words...always hoping, wishing, that the answer will be different, this time, this time..._

_“I want you by my side.....We want the same thing.”_

_A solitary tear rolls down Max's face. “I'm sorry, but we do not.”_

 

He jerks awake with a start, soaked in sweat, pulse racing and hands fisted in the bed sheets. The room is dark, only a thin sliver of light bleeding through a crack in the curtains, the rattle of his harsh breathing filling the empty space.

And he hears the unmistakable sounds of soft whimpers and sniffling coming from the foot of his bed.

His eyes adjust to the dim lighting and he can make out the figure of his young son, sitting with legs pulled up, head and arms curled around his knees.

“Max? What's wrong? Are you...why are you crying?” He sits up, reaching forward to pull the little boy into his arms but Max twists out of his reach and jumps away, slowly backing from the bed.

“Papa...” Max is staring at him, a look of disbelief on his face, tears running down his cheeks. “You're the reason Daddy can't use his legs.”


	15. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come out in the worst way. And Erik finally makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be writing longer and longer chapters with these last few updates :) Here is the confrontation (finally) between Max and his parents about what happened in Cuba. I did some creative time jumping between sections and hope it's not too jarring to read. Erik takes a beating here, no doubt about it but I hope you all like the way the chapter ends. (Hint: see chapter title)

“Max!”

He’s awake and out of bed in a flash, claws extended and ready for battle. Using his body as a human shield, he crouches low in front of the Prof. who has jolted up in bed. Logan sniffs the air around him to try and sense the attackers, expecting someone or something to crash through the doors or windows at any moment. “Chuck? What’s happening?”

Charles looks as close to frantic as he’s ever seen him, though he shakes his head at Logan. “No, the School’s not under attack.” He grabs his pajama bottoms off the wheelchair and starts tugging them on in haste. “Help me get dressed please, quickly!”

He turns to look at the Prof., just as the sound of something large smashes against the wall in the room across the hall. Charles winces at the noise and murmurs under his breath, “Oh god, Erik.”

Logan snarls as he grabs the robe off the floor and flings it quickly over the Professor’s shoulders, “What the fuck is Lehnsherr doing? Did something happen to Max?” Another crash; this time it’s even louder, as something big and heavy smashes and splinters right outside of Charles’ door.

“No, it’s not what you think. Please we’ve got to get to Max quickly.” Charles throws himself into the chair and slips his arms inside the robe, not bothering to fiddle with the belt. “Come on, before Max hurts someone by accident.”

____

 

The crash wakes her up from a sound sleep and her sharply honed instincts have her out of bed and tensed for an attack in mere seconds. Adrenaline pumps through Raven and her mind cycles rapidly through the multiple side passages and exits in the mansion to come up with the quickest escape route. She’s moving and out the door fast; it’ll be a pleasure to take down anyone who tries to stop her from getting to Charles and Max.

 

____

 

“...can’t believe you tried to help that asshole, Hank. The sooner he leaves here the better.”

Sean eyes his two friends, who can only be described as ‘facing off’ across the island in the kitchen. Hank sets his beer down and calmly addresses a seething Alex. “I didn’t do it for _him_ , Alex. I did it because Max wants his father in his life and wants his parents to get along. If there’s a way for the Prof. and Magneto to come to some understanding or to find some common ground--”

A muffled crash coming from the west wing stuns them into silence for just a moment, before Alex is running as fast as he can towards the staircase with Hank and Sean hot at his heels. They sprint and leap, two to three steps at a time up the stairs and hit the landing outside Charles’ room just in time to see Erik’s door fling open and a large wooden desk fly out and across the hall, smashing into pieces against the opposite wall.

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. “What the hell..?”

Hank is the first to notice Raven - in her natural blue form, minus the jump suit she’s been wearing around the school - running towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. From the look on her face, he’s certain that she’s just witnessed the same...incident. She stops abruptly, wary of crossing in front of the open door and looks over at the three men in front of her. “What just happened?”

Sean wonders if someone has broken into the School to attack Magneto, and is just about to suggest that they go in to check on Erik when the door across the way slams open and out rolls the Prof. from his room. He’s never seen Charles look so disheveled, the usually impeccably dressed man wearing his pajama bottoms with his robe hanging open, chest bare. He curses in his head as a split second later, his mind registers the second person following closely behind the Prof., shirtless in jeans and body coiled tightly and ready to fight.

It’s obvious from the look on their faces that Hank and Alex are a bit stunned to see a half dressed Logan coming out of Charles’ room in the middle of the night. Raven doesn’t look surprised, though it’s hard for Sean to guess what she’s thinking at the moment. Alex is looking from the Professor to Logan and back again, mouth gaping open and he’s about to speak when Charles rolls over and places a gentle hand on his arm. “Later, please. One thing at a time.”

He wheels himself closer to Erik’s door and then calls, gently, but loud enough to be heard by those inside the room. “Max, love. It’s alright. Please come out so I can explain.”

___

 

“Max? What's wrong? Are you...why are you crying?”

“Papa...” Max is still backing away from him, eyes red and glittering with tears. “You're the reason Daddy can't use his legs.”

Erik is so shocked that he sits frozen, staring at his son who is now standing in front of the bedroom door having moved as far away from him as possible. He can’t think, can’t breathe; his mind can’t register the look of hurt and pain on Max’s face as it slowly morphs from sadness to anger at his continued silence.

“I heard you, in my head,” Max continues in a quiet voice, trembling with hurt and frustration. “You were having a bad dream and I wanted to help you feel better so I came into your room. I wasn’t trying to read you but you were so _loud_...you were projecting and I could see everything...”

A wheezing sound makes its way out of Erik’s throat before he can clamp it down, tight. “What...what did you see?”

“A submarine. The plane crash. There was a fight and you pushed a coin into the bad man’s head while Daddy held him still with his mind.” It’s all coming out of Max in a rush, the boy clearly understanding some but not all of what he’s seen from the dream. “You put on that helmet and Daddy couldn’t talk to you anymore. And then the men in the boats tried to send missiles to hurt everyone and you stopped them but then you tried to send them back and then...then...”

“Max...please...” The little boy’s face is blurring around the edges as Erik tries desperately to fight back his own tears, his hands still clenched in the bed sheets.

“Daddy, he told you to stop. To not hurt all those men in the boats but you wouldn’t listen. And he tried to stop you and you hit him!” Max’s voice continues to rise in volume as he relays the events witnessed in the dream. “You hit him and then the lady tried to stop you with her gun and you..., you...”

Erik chokes back a sob and answers in a voice he barely recognizes as his own. “I deflected the bullets and one of them hit Charles in the back.” He watches his little boy’s face crumple and he thinks - he _knows_ \- that whatever relationship he might have had with Max is slipping away from him at these words. “I’m the one who paralyzed your Dad.”

The pained, wounded sound coming from Max finally pushes Erik into action and he climbs out of the bed, taking a careful step towards his son. Max snarls and moves away from the door, trying to maintain the distance between them. The look of betrayal on his face makes Erik suck in a sharp breath, his chest constricting from the agony of seeing his own actions reflected in the eyes of his innocent little boy.

Max is glaring at him, his eyes hard and an expression on his face Erik recognizes easily as one of his own. He wants to laugh at the terrible irony; that this horrible incident is stripping away the gentleness, the sweetness of Charles Xavier from their son and replacing it with the pain and anger that is such an inherent part of Erik Lehnsherr.

“You hurt him.” Max points his finger accusingly at his father. “And then you just left him, on the beach! You and Aunt Raven _left_ him when he was hurt and bleeding, when it was all your fault!”

The lamp sitting on the desk topples off the edge and falls onto the floor, followed by the painting hanging over the bed. Erik thinks for a moment that he’s losing his grip on his powers, accidentally moving the metal in the room. It’s not until the wooden chair goes flying against the wall with a loud crash that he realizes that it’s not coming from him.

“Max, please. I’m sorry. I know you’re upset but I need you to calm down alright?” He takes another small step towards his son and the boy narrows his eyes at him. “Let’s go talk to Charles.”

“No!” Max all but screams at him. “You stay away from my Daddy! I won’t let you hurt him ever again! I want you to leave!”

The door slams open and he watches in open-mouthed shock as the wooden desk goes flying out of the room, smashing into the wall next to Charles’ door.

There’s an eerie silence that follows as both Erik and Max look out at the pile of broken furniture on the floor. They can hear people moving around outside, followed quickly by remarks of disbelief.

“What the hell..?”

“What just happened?”

Max closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as though he’s trying to shut out the world around him. Erik watches him intently and doesn’t know if he should hold his son or try to comfort him with words; it’s a fair guess that anything he tries right now would do more harm than good.

He can barely contain his relief when he hears in the next moment, the warm dulcet tones of his ex-lover drifting in from the hallway. “Max, love. It’s alright. Please come out so I can explain.”

The little boy turns and runs out of the room, not bothering to acknowledge Erik as he rushes by. He follows quickly, just in time to see Max hurtling into his Dad’s arms as Charles pulls him onto his lap and cradles his son’s head against his chest.

“Shh...it’s okay sweetheart. Daddy’s here, everything’s alright, love.”

____

 

Sean and the others watch quietly as Max comes barreling out at the sound of Charles’ voice and throws himself onto the Professor’s lap. The little boy is whimpering, his whole body shaking as he cries while Charles holds him and gently strokes the back of his head.

He looks over as Erik walks out of the room and is genuinely shocked by his appearance. The man looks absolutely wrecked, his eyes red with tears, the expression on his face so tired, so devastated that Sean finds himself wanting to reach out to comfort him.

There’s pained sympathy reflected on Raven’s face; it would appear that she’s guessed at the source of Max’s anguish. Looking around the room Sean finds very different reactions from the people gathered around father and son - Alex is livid, his hands clenched into fists as he glares thunderously at Magneto; Hank can’t stop staring at Max, his eyes wet with unshed tears and even Logan looks stricken, his eyes darting anxiously between Erik, Max and Charles.

It’s Alex that speaks first. “ _What_ did you do to Max?” he snarls at Erik, who is standing stock still in grey jogging pants and a white t-shirt, looking nothing like the imperious and intimidating Magneto they’ve all come to know.

Erik opens his mouth as if to answer, then shakes his head and barely manages to choke out a single word. “Charles?”

A wave of calm envelops Sean and he feels himself relax, his shoulders loosen and spine becoming less rigid. He notices similar reactions from the others and knows that Charles is deliberately projecting peaceful, soothing thoughts and feelings to the people around him.

“I’ve made sure that the students will be sleeping soundly through the night undisturbed. However, Sean and Hank, if you could kindly look in on them please when we’re finished here?” They both nod at the Professor’s words, though everyone remains rooted in place.

Raven takes a few steps towards Erik and places a gentle hand on his arm though the man seems oblivious to everything around him, his gaze still locked on Max and Charles. Her voice is soft, concerned, and she seems to be asking the question to anyone willing to answer. “What happened?”

The Professor sighs, running his hands through Max’s hair before he looks up at Raven and the others. “Erik was dreaming...about Cuba. And Max picked up his thoughts about what happened on the beach.”

No one looks particularly surprised at the revelation, though Alex’s face becomes even more twisted with anger. Sean interrupts, attempting to stop his friend from losing his temper in front of Max. “What about the crashes? The desk?” He turns to address Erik, “It wasn’t you was it? There’s no metal here.”

Erik shakes his head though it’s Charles that answers, “I believe Max unlocked a secondary mutation tonight – telekinesis. It appears that he can move things with his mind, though he has little awareness or control of his new power.” He places a tender kiss on his son’s forehead. “We’ll do some tests with Hank this week and help him develop a training plan.”

“A _training plan_? That’s all you have to say Charles?” Sean is shocked at the tone that Alex uses with the Prof. though Charles himself looks unfazed. “Max is traumatized! He didn’t just wake up one day and realize that he was telekinetic! This... _he_ caused it!”

“Alex please.” The Prof. still looks composed, but Sean can hear the slight waver in his voice as he pleads, “I’m aware of what’s happened here, but I’m asking you to please trust me to handle this.”

There’s no response from Alex and Charles takes his silence as tacit agreement. He pulls Max gently from his chest and wipes the tears from the boy’s face with his thumbs. “Come on love. I think we need to talk so I can explain what you saw in your Papa’s dreams. Why don’t you and Erik and I go speak in the study and we’ll let the others go back to sleep?”

The words have the exact opposite effect than the Professor intended; instead of calming Max, the little boy scrambles out of his lap and points an accusing finger at his two parents. “No! I don’t want to talk to him! I don’t want him anywhere near you or me! Ever again!” He spins towards Erik, his tiny hands clenched into fists as he faces off with his father. “I want you to leave right now and take Aunt Raven with you too.”

They are all stunned at the little boy’s outburst; none of them have ever seen such anger and resentment from the sweet, gentle boy they all know and love. Raven tries to reach for Max, only to be shoved away, his anger switching from Erik to a new target. “You,” he points an accusing finger at his Aunt, “how could you leave Daddy like that? When he loved you so much? You’re his sister! His family! And you left with the man who made him lose his legs!”

He turns away from her then, only to spin around and wave his arm to indicate everyone in the room. “You all knew! You knew what he did and you let me bring him home. So he could lie about how much he loves me and Daddy!”

“Max, please I...,” Erik is crying now, tears running down his face and Sean’s heart hurts maybe just a little for his former friend. “I didn’t mean to hurt Charles, I swear. I love him, Max. It was a terrible, terrible mistake. I would never deliberately hurt him.”

Charles is rapidly losing his own composure as he rolls closer to his son, the little boy standing rigid and unyielding in front of him. “Sweetheart, your Papa is telling the truth. What happened in Cuba was an accident.” He reaches for Erik’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Your father and I, we loved each other Max. He didn’t hurt me on purpose.”

“Max.” Hank bends down and places his hands on the little boy’s shoulders. “You know that we were all there that day, except for Logan. We can all tell you the same thing. Erik may have deflected the bullets but he didn’t know Charles was getting up behind him.” His tone is soft and comforting as he pulls Max into a hug. “I’ve never lied to you before and I’m not lying now. Your Dad’s paralysis, it was the result of very bad timing and poor judgement, yes. But it _was_ an accident.”

Max doesn’t say anything, though he seems to have calmed a bit from Hank’s words. He turns to look at Sean, who nods in agreement as does Raven who looks devastated at her nephew’s rejection. Finally, he wanders over to Alex and takes the older man’s hand. “I know you weren’t happy when I brought Papa and Aunt Raven home. You’ll tell me the truth won’t you, Alex? Did he mean to hurt Daddy? Was it really an accident?”

Sean can see Alex hesitate, his mind warring with the desire to rid Erik from their lives forever or to help Max deal with the events of that fateful day. They’re all watching him, waiting, until finally he scrubs a hand over his tired face and looks down at the little boy. “Yeah Max. It was an accident.”

Erik is shaking, his face a mix of relief and raw emotion and he’s still clutching Charles’ hand like a life line. The Professor squeezes it again and then gently slips his hand away from the Erik’s grip to pull Max close. “Please, love. Come and let us tell you what happened. I promise we’ll explain everything.”

The little boy nods in agreement and Charles leads them towards his bedroom. “Let’s go chat in my room shall we?” He opens the door and waits for Max to enter, then turns to address the others. “Erik, will you join us please? And I think perhaps it would be best if we cancelled classes in the morning, give us all a chance to sleep on things. Good night.”

They all watch as the Prof. disappears into the room behind Max, followed closely by Erik who is taking slow, halting steps forward. Sean can’t help but think of  him as a man walking to his own execution.

The door closes and the remaining adults stand awkwardly in silence, unsure of what to do next. Hank throws an arm around Sean’s shoulders and sighs. “Come on. Let’s go check on the kids.”

Logan pushes himself off the wall where he's been leaning. “I’ll help.”

It happens so fast that none of them have a chance to react before Alex is slamming his body against Logan and punching him in the face. “You son of a bitch! How long have you been waiting for this chance, huh? You just couldn’t wait to get into the Prof.’s pants could you?”

“Alex!” Both Hank and Sean are on him in a flash, pulling him off a surprisingly calm Logan. “Stop!”

“You bastard!” They’re barely able to keep Alex from lunging forward and yanking himself from their grasp. “How could you take advantage of Charles while he’s vulnerable, with that rat Magneto showing up again after all these years? I can’t believe we ever thought it was a good idea to let you stay here!”

Logan cracks his jaw slowly and then reaches up to wipe a bit of blood from the corner of his lip. His body language is relaxed and unconcerned and Sean is infinitely grateful that he – hopefully – won’t have to peel Alex’s ass off the floor. “Listen Summers. It’s not like that with me and the Prof. But it’s really none of your business and don’t think I need to tell you shit.”

“Alex!” Sean throws his whole body around his friend to hold him back. “Listen, the Prof. and Logan, it didn’t just start tonight okay? It’s been going on for a while. He’s not taking advantage of Charles.”

“What?” Alex stops struggling completely and turns to look at him. “What the fuck are you talking about, Cassidy?” He turns to glare at Logan again. “How long?” A slight pause. “And why didn’t Charles...”

“Look Summers,” Logan cuts him off impatiently. “Chuck and I like each other. We’re adults, so you can probably figure out the rest of it. As to why he didn’t tell anyone; I assume he wanted to keep his private life, you know, private.”

“You knew?” He glares at Sean and then at Hank. “Did you know too? Am I the only idiot who didn’t know Logan was fucking the Prof.?”

“No! I didn’t--”

“Alex.” Sean’s trying his best to remain calm, to help pull his friend back from the edge. He knows what a shock this night has been for all of them and then for Alex to find out about Charles and Logan this way... “I only know because I accidentally caught Logan coming out of the Professor’s room one night. The Prof. asked me not to say anything. He didn’t want to confuse Max.”

“You know Charles’ abilities, Alex. No one can trick him or take advantage of him.” Raven’s tone is neutral, not pitying or mocking which seems to help settle him down.

Alex doesn’t say another word, stalking off towards the other end of the hallway no doubt to check on Scott and the others. Hank follows closely behind and Logan turns away, wandering off in the opposite direction. Sean is left standing next to Raven, the two of them a little breathless and stunned.

After a few moments, she waves her hand towards the Professor’s door. “How do think it’s going in there?” 

Sean just shakes his head and sighs. “I hope it’s going better in there than it did out here.”

___

 

He watches quietly as Charles walks Max through the highlights of that day, his face numb and head still reeling from his son’s reaction. Two weeks ago, Erik had been alone in this world, with nothing in his life but his cause and the Brotherhood. And now, having just been given a second chance at a family, he stands to lose them from the consequences of his own actions.

And that’s when he realizes the truth; he’s petrified of losing Max and Charles and can’t bear the thought of never seeing them again. If he has to choose right now - choose between the cause and his family, Erik will do the right thing for once and be there for the people he loves.

“That’s all of it, love. There are probably some things that you’re still too young to understand, but I’ve explained everything you should know about what happened that day.”

Max is calmer now, though his expression is sullen and he’s refusing to look at Erik. He narrows his eyes at Charles and pouts from the middle of the big bed. “You should have told me before.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry you found out this way.” Charles sighs and slides himself closer to their son, pulling him back against the pillows. “I was planning to tell you when you got a bit older.”

The boy doesn’t respond for a few minutes, his hands picking absently at the sheets, his forehead wrinkled in thought. Erik approaches tentatively, stopping at the foot of the bed and hoping more than anything that he can get his point across without messing things up even more. “I know I’ve made you lose your trust and your faith in me, Max, but I want to prove to you that I’m telling the truth. You can read me if you like, so you know how I feel about you and Charles.”

He sits down at the end of the bed and waits for Max to make the first move. The little boy hesitates before scrambling towards him, kneeling in front of Erik and placing his fingers on either side of his father’s head. Max turns to look at Charles, who nods and smiles encouragingly, before closing his eyes and diving in.

Erik feels the presence like a warm ray of sunshine; as angry as Max is at the moment the boy is still gentle, taking great pains to carefully rifle through his thoughts and memories. He pushes them to the forefront and lays them bare – the regret and pain and crushing guilt from hurting Charles, from leaving his lover behind; all the lonely days and nights over the years, punctuated by the few short months of happiness before Cuba; the last two weeks of great joy and confusion having Max and Charles in his life.

Max pulls out of his mind and sits on the bed, a thoughtful expression on his face as he turns to address Charles. “Papa really _is_ sorry that he hurt you but...are you really not angry with him? Don’t you blame him for not being able to use your legs anymore? Don’t you want him to hurt too?”

Charles shakes his head, his smile a little sad. “Do you remember last summer, when you made a dare with Ororo to climb up the big tree out back? And she fell and broke her arm? How did that make you feel?”

The little boy frowns and curls his arms around his knees. “I felt really bad, Daddy. It was all my fault she got hurt; if I hadn’t dared her to climb the tree she wouldn’t have fallen.”

“You felt responsible right? Ororo was climbing the tree because of you. But her falling out of it was an accident, and not something that you did to deliberately hurt her.”

Charles wraps an arm around their son as he continues, “And was she mad at you? Did she blame you for what happened to her arm?”

“No...” Max looks between Charles and Erik and sighs. “Are you saying it’s like that? You can’t walk because of Papa but it was an accident so you’re not mad at him?”

“I _am_ still angry Max, sometimes. Just not about the bullet or what happened to my legs. Your father and I have hurt each other a lot over the years.” He chuckles wryly and shoots Erik a glance. “I think this has been a lot harder than either of us expected, seeing each other again after all this time.”

“I regret a great many things Max,” Erik says, sliding a bit closer and feeling relieved when his son doesn’t immediately move away. “I wish I had stopped the bullets instead of deflecting them. I wish...I should never have left that day. I was a coward. I was afraid to face what I had done and I didn’t want to stay long enough for Charles to realize that he hated me, because it would have been his right.”

He looks over Max’s head at Charles who is gazing intently at him, eyes glistening. “I regret not reading the letters he sent to me about you. I was afraid that I would drop everything I believed in and come back, only to resent your Dad later for my own actions. I want to fix this Max," he continues, brushing an errant tear sliding down his cheek. "I want to make things right and make amends for how much I’ve hurt you and Charles.”

“So...you’re going to stay, Papa? You’re not leaving us?” The little boy sounds so scared and hopeful at the same time that it makes Erik’s heart ache.

“Yes, Max. I’m going to stay. I _want_ to stay...if Charles will have me here.”

“Erik...” Charles clears his throat, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he shifts closer to Max on the bed. “Of course you can stay.”

“Okay then, that’s settled.” The little boy smiles for the first time that night and Erik almost collapses with relief. Max flops backwards onto the pillows and wiggles under the blankets, reaching out to pull Charles next to him. “Can I sleep with you tonight, Daddy?”

Charles smiles and hugs Max so tightly it makes the boy squirm. “Of course you can. Just make sure you don’t kick me out of the bed.”

Erik pushes himself up and walks over to Max, leaning down to run his hand through his son’s hair. “I should go back to my room, let you two get back to sleep.”

“No, don’t go! Why don’t you stay here with me and Daddy? He’s got a giant bed, I know we can all fit.”

He looks at Max who is gazing up at him with the sweetest smile and wide, blue eyes and then over at Charles who seems amused at the exchange. “You can stay Erik, if you want.”

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, he climbs quickly into bed as Charles turns off the lamp on the night stand. He settles comfortably next to Max with Charles on the other side of their son and within minutes the boy is fast asleep, leaving the two adults laying together in silence.

“Thank you Charles, for what you said tonight.” His voice is pitched low so he doesn’t wake Max. “I'm grateful for your support; it was unexpected.”

He can hear Charles sigh and turn to face him, though it’s too dark to see much more than the silhouette of his face. “I meant everything that I said, Erik. I want you to stay, if that’s what you want. Just...please don’t disappoint Max by promising you’ll stay and then...”

“Charles.” He searches blindly until he finds the other man’s hand, and laces their fingers together. “I won’t let him down, I swear. I wasn’t lying about wanting to try to make things work between us.”

He can hear the nervousness and uncertainty in Charles’ voice when he answers, “I don’t know that I can...I think we should just focus on being parents to Max for now, Erik. I’m not sure that we can go back to the way things were before Cuba, at least not right now.”

Erik swallows the bitter disappointment swelling inside him and gently strokes his ex-lover’s hand. “I know Charles. I won’t pressure you to revisit things between us, but I won’t stop loving you either, or hoping that you’ll change your mind.”

There’s no response for a long time and Erik worries that he may have pushed too hard with even this simple declaration of intent. He breathes a sigh of relief when Charles finally responds, so softly that he almost can’t make out the word. “Alright.”


	16. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik wakes up in Charles' bed. And there's a lot of discussion about sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the delay getting this chapter up! Real life was crazy and then I had a bit of writer's block, which hopefully I've gotten past now :) Hope you like this relatively angst free chapter! 
> 
> Also, I posted a new drabble recently about [Erik and Charles's first time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501139/chapters/953200) if anyone is interested! And thanks again for reading!

_He wakes in his childhood bed for the first time in years, a lonely boy no longer, lost in a sea of fluffy white blankets and sheets._

_It’s a new and welcome change, warm hands wrapped around his waist and a hard body that Charles knows and loves so intimately, pressed against his back, their legs entwined._

_He smiles and tries to savor the moment; he’s never woken up with Erik still in bed, his lover usually already showered and dressed by the time Charles opens his eyes. The soft, even breathing in his ear tells him that Erik is still asleep, as does the soft hum of the man’s mind, quiet and dreamless._

_This is their first full day at the mansion, and Charles has given everyone leave to rest and get acquainted with their new surroundings. It’s likely that Erik will still want to train - the man is nothing but relentlessly single-minded and driven - but at least Raven and Moira and the boys will appreciate the break._

_He lets himself relax and sink into his lover’s arms, basking in the warmth and the physical connection. They’ve been together now for a few short months, their relationship moving beyond friendship to...something else...the night of Angel’s recruitment. Between the cross country travel and then the trip to Russia, there’d been little time for more than the occasional quick and rough tumble, in and out of bed._

_A low, gravelly voice growls at him, “Isn’t it a bit early Charles, for you to be thinking so loudly?”_

_Biting back the urge to laugh at the wry observation he sighs theatrically and pushes his arse against Erik’s erection. “Sorry, I’m afraid you’ll have to find something else for me to do instead.”_

_Erik’s chuckle is fond and amused, though it’s interrupted by a sharp intake of breath when Charles starts rubbing against him like a lazy cat. “Mein Gott, you’re insatiable! Didn’t we defile your childhood bed enough last night?”_

_Charles does laugh then, taking the opportunity to roll himself out of Erik’s arms and straddling him. “It was only three times. Hardly a world record.”_

_And now he’s in trouble, because Erik is looking up at him with a devilish gleam in his eye and a smile with way too much teeth. “Then I guess we’ll have to try harder.”_

_“Hmm.” He runs his hands down his lover’s perfect chest and washboard stomach, before taking him in hand with long, leisurely strokes. Shifting a little further down, Charles leans forward and blows a soft puff of air over the tip of his cock, causing Erik to buck his hips and moan. He grins and licks his lips in anticipation._

_“Practice does make perfect, darling.”_

___

When Erik opens his eyes, he finds himself lying on a soft, comfortable bed, feeling relaxed and surprisingly well rested. His arms and legs are wrapped around a warm body – a body he knows intimately, having spent long nights discovering every dip and curve, followed by too many years trying to remember them.

He must be dreaming, he thinks, of their first day at the mansion and Erik presses deeper into the pillows, giving himself over to waves of happiness and contentment. That had been a good day – preceded the night before by the first time that Charles had told Erik he loved him.

The moment is crystal clear in his mind still; a treasure buried but never forgotten. He turns it around and around, examining the memory, hoarding it like a thief taking something precious and unearned.

_Twinkling blue eyes are looking up at him, the smile lazy and satiated from their shared release. Erik doesn’t want to move; is content to stay inside Charles for as long as he can before it becomes uncomfortable for them both._

_“Erik.” Charles reaches to cradle his cheek, running his fingers across his brow. “Erik, I...”_

_He nuzzles the pale stretch of skin between neck and shoulder, lips soothing the marks he left with his tongue and teeth. “Hmm?”_

_“I love you.”_

_Erik doesn’t answer; doesn’t know how to say what he feels with words so he leans down and places a soft, reverent kiss instead on his lover’s lips. “Charles, I...I don’t...I...”_

_“Shh, it’s alright, darling.” His lover wraps his arms around Erik’s neck and kisses him softly, smile radiant as the sun. “You don’t need to--”_

“Morning Daddy! Morning Papa!”

Max’s voice jars him awake completely, his eyes flying open at the same time as the body next to him stiffens. It’s Charles, wrapped in his arms, his face flushed and eyes wide, looking shocked and not a little embarrassed that the two of them are currently pressed together in the middle of the bed.

He turns to find his son looking quite pleased, perched above the covers at the bottom half of the bed. Max is sitting cross-legged, elbows on his knees and chin in hand, watching his parents with barely suppressed glee. Charles makes a slight choking sound and clears his throat before asking, “How long have you been sitting there?”

If possible, Max’s smile grows even wider when he answers, “About an hour I think.”

They pull away at the same time, scrambling to untangle limbs and smooth blankets, putting some distance between them on the bed. It’s not what Erik wants of course; he would like nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with Charles in his arms but he can sense the man’s unease and knows he can’t push him before he’s ready.

Assuming that he'll ever _be_ ready.

Charles pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales noisily. “Were you reading us while we were sleeping?”

“Just until you started having sex in your dream, Daddy. You were projecting it so loudly that Papa picked it up too. But I put up my shields to give you privacy once you started kissing and stuff.” He waves a book at his parents. “The rest of the time I’ve been reading.”

Erik is too stunned for words, his mouth hanging half open as he stares at Max. Charles groans and slaps a hand to his forehead. “Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this. People’s dreams, they’re private. And just last night...you should have woken us up when you got up Max.”

The boy pouts impressively, Erik thinks, though the effect is a bit ruined by the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You both looked really tired so I didn’t want to wake you! Daddy, you never get enough rest.”

“Do you want some breakfast Max?” he interrupts, glancing over at a still flushed Charles who is resolutely not looking at Erik. “I can make pancakes.”

“No I’m alright.” Max looks at Charles and then back at Erik and says, “I can get some cereal from the kitchen. Papa, you should go back to hugging Daddy again. He really misses that.”

“Oh god,” Charles mutters under his breath, looking like he wants to pull the covers over his head and hide from them both. “That’s not...I don’t...”

It makes him hopeful, knowing that Charles still dreams about him, but the situation with Max has them both feeling embarrassed and awkward. So he does his best to think of something that might interest their son and distract him. “Shall we go find Ororo, Max? I can move the big satellite dish like you wanted. What do you think?”

He can tell that the little boy is tempted, taking a moment to think about the offer before shaking his head. “No, I’d rather stay here and spend time with you and Daddy.”

“Alright then.” Charles smiles weakly and reaches forward, tugging Max into his lap. “What do you want to do today?”

“I...” Max looks up at Erik, and then at his Dad, biting his lip uncertainly before blurting out, “are you two going to have sex?”

“Are...what?” Charles’ eyes go comically wide at Max’s words, looking like the veritable deer in the headlights. “Why would you...what makes you think we’re going to have sex?”

“Papa says he’s going to stay with us at the mansion from now on.” He turns to Erik for confirmation, voice perhaps a touch accusing. “You _are_ staying right? You said you were last night.”

“Yes I did say that and I meant it. There’s a lot that Charles and I have to talk about but...yes, I do intend to stay.”

Max beams and grabs one of his Dad’s hands and then one of Erik’s and proceeds to wrap them together. “And you’re getting back together right? So we can be a real family?”

Charles sighs, running fingers through the boy’s unruly mop of hair. “Sweetheart, your Papa and I don’t have to be together for us to be a real family. Whether we have a relationship or not doesn’t change the fact that we’re your parents and we love you.”

It _hurts_ , hearing Charles so quick to dismiss the idea of reconciliation and he does his best to hide his disappointment. He focuses instead on Max who looks as crestfallen as he feels.

“You have more than just the two of us,” he reassures, placing a warm hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. “You have your Aunt Raven and Hank, and Sean and Alex too. And Ororo and Scott...we’re all your family Max, regardless of what happens between me and Charles.”

“But you love each other! I _know_ you do I’ve seen it in both your heads! I don’t understand why you can’t be together if Papa’s here now and he’s not going to leave!”

It doesn’t help that a part of Erik feels the same way; he wants desperately for the two of them to move forward and build a future together in every way that matters. He _wants_ Charles; wants to earn his trust and his love and his forgiveness and be the better man the telepath had always insisted he could be.

 _“I’m sorry Erik but I can’t.”_ Charles’ mental voice is a gentle caress, sad and perhaps a bit regretful.  _“I can’t promise anything when I don’t know what’s going to happen.”_

He doesn’t have a response for Charles that would satisfy either of them; there are no promises he can make that will fix the past or guarantee what will come next. Instead, he repeats his commitment to the other man in his head – Erik will give Charles whatever space and time he needs.

Charles gives him a warm smile, twisting Erik's stomach into knots even as he turns his attention to answering Max. “It’s not that simple sweetheart. Erik and I haven’t been together since before you were born. A lot has happened in eight years; we can’t just pretend things are the same as they used to be.”

The boy doesn’t look convinced, eyes narrowing at his Dad before demanding loudly, “Is it because of Logan? You don’t want to get back together with Papa because you’re having sex with Logan right?”

If possible, Charles’ looks even more shocked, his face going bright red at Max’s words. Erik thinks their precocious, genius of a boy might be the only one in the world capable of rendering Charles Xavier speechless.

“How...how do you know about Logan? He’s naturally resistant to telepathy...when did you read him?”

Max looks sheepishly at an irritated Charles and then at Erik, sending him a mental plea, _“Papa? Help, please?”_

Erik grins and pushes an apology to the boy, _“Sorry Max but you’re on your own when it comes to Logan.”_

The dual Xavier glares lobbed his way are enough to keep him silent, firm in his decision to stay out of the fray.

“I didn’t read Logan, Daddy! I found out from Sean...”

“ _Sean_ told you?” Charles voice is soft but strained, and Erik does not envy the trouble Cassidy is in for not keeping his big mouth shut.

The boy shakes his head emphatically, eyes wide, anxious to protect Sean from one of his Dad’s ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ lectures. “No, he didn’t tell me exactly...I sort of read it from him when he first found out about you guys.” Max gives Charles an innocent smile that doesn’t fool either of the adults. “I didn’t mean to! It’s just...it was the only thing he thought about for like three whole days.”

Erik snorts, trying (and failing) not to find it amusing when Charles’ eyebrows shoot practically to the top of his head. “That was...you’ve known since last summer? Why didn’t you say anything to me before?”

“You told me to shield anytime I see sex in somebody’s head and I didn’t want you to be mad! And it was okay because it meant you weren’t alone and that made me happy. And I like Logan, he’s nice but you don’t love him, do you?”

_Do you love him, Charles? Do you still love me?_

He keeps the stray thoughts locked tight behind his shields; these are questions he wants answered almost as much as he dreads the response.

“Sweetheart, Logan and I are very good friends,” Charles says gently, pulling Max close. “We like each other and he cares about the both of us very much. But he’s not replacing your Papa’s role in your life; Erik and I are your parents and that’s not going to change.”

“And you and Papa?”

“Our reasons for not being together have nothing to do with Logan, love.” He brushes Max’s cheek and tilts his chin up, two pairs of blue eyes seemingly locked in silent discussion.

It’s a surprise to them both when Max just shakes his head, looking back and forth between Charles and Erik, eyes welling with tears.

“Daddy, you have to get back together with Papa! Otherwise, he’s just going to leave us again.”

“No!” Erik interjects, pulling Max into a fierce hug, tucking the boy’s head under his chin. “No, Max! I want to stay and be a family with you and with Charles. To get to know you and make up for all the years I’ve missed. But me being here is not contingent on Charles and I getting back together.” He kisses the top of Max’s head and wraps his arms tighter. “I’m here to stay, no matter what happens.”

The muffled voice against his chest is tentative, hopeful. “Really?”

“Really. We’re always going to be a family, Max. You, me and Charles.”

Erik can feel his son relax in his arms, radiating thoughts of warmth and trust and love. It’s better than anything he could have ever hoped for, matched only by what happens next, Charles wrapping his arms around them both, leaning his head against Erik’s shoulder.

“Yes love, we are.”


	17. The Danger Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's announcement gets a mixed response. Charles and Alex have a long overdue talk while Logan and Erik 'spar'. And the Danger Room makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter as everyone tries to absorb the news of Erik's decision to stay. Hopefully you're still enjoying this journey and not too frustrated with the pace in which Charles and Erik are working through their (many) issues.
> 
> Also, my very limited knowledge of the Danger Room is what I remember from old X-Men cartoons and what I found on wiki so don't kill me if it seems too bizarre :) 
> 
> As always, thanks to everyone for reading!

“So I hear you’re sleeping with my brother.”

He’s sitting at the kitchen table nursing his morning coffee when Chuck’s sister appears out of thin air and drops casually into the chair next to him. She gives him a toothy grin that’s amused but not entirely friendly, a dangerous glint in her eye that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“There’s usually not a lot of sleepin’ going on.”

The snort that comes out of her is genuine and unladylike and Logan finds himself warming slightly at her reaction. He takes another drink from his coffee, using the time to size up the woman in front of him.

It would be easy for someone to underestimate her he thinks; Raven – Mystique – is beautiful; all sinewy curves and brimming with easy confidence. And though she looks harmless enough in that soft, fluffy robe, swiping a piece of toast off Logan’s plate, he’s been in enough fights to know a threat when he sees one. There’s a lethal edge about her that is sharp and familiar and there isn’t a doubt in his mind that Magneto’s second in command is a dangerous opponent.

Logan pushes his plate towards her, then leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, the coffee cup still in his hand. “You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

He can see McCoy and Cassidy at the other end of the kitchen, doing a pitiful job of pretending not to listen. There’s some obvious clanging of pots and pans that makes Logan roll his eyes – apparently subtlety is a skill neither of them possess. They’re probably waiting to intervene should the ‘you hurt my brother and I’ll kill you’ talk he’s expecting gets out of hand.

Raven looks over at the other two before glancing back at him, grinning wide as she says with mock seriousness, “Yeah, I do actually...does Charles still moan really loudly during sex?”

Hank actually spits out a mouthful of coffee, setting his mug down with a bang and splashing all over the counter before turning an odd shade of purple. Sean is trying hard to stifle his snickering by sticking his head in the fridge and pretending to rifle around for...something.

She gets up to grab a cup of coffee herself, patting Hank on the shoulder as she wanders by. “God you guys are too easy.” He watches her move around the kitchen with obvious familiarity, a smirk on her lips when she sits back down next to Logan. “Well? Does he?”

He arches an eyebrow at her but returns her sly smirk. “That’s a bit personal don’t you think? And not something I’d expect a sister to know about her brother.”

Raven shrugs and takes a sip from her mug. “We shared a flat at Oxford. The walls were thin and he wasn’t exactly discreet.”

“I really don’t think the Professor would appreciate his personal affairs being discussed at the breakfast table.” Hank gives them both a disapproving glare as he mops up the counter, Logan ignoring him and Raven chuckling at his words.

“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you’re not even a little curious? Your prim and proper Professor X and Logan here? Who looks like the dictionary definition of ‘rough and tumble’?”

“Listen.” Sean wanders over to join them, setting his own plate of breakfast and coffee down at the table. “I’ve already spent way more time than I’d like thinking about Logan and the Prof’s...affairs. And it’s disturbing enough since the Professor is...well it’s like imagining my Dad having sex. So if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if we could just change the subject.”

He doesn’t understand the way most other people see Chuck; like he’s some sort of paragon of virtue and wisdom with no capacity for basic human feelings like desires, fear or anger. It may not be a fair statement to apply to Hank, Alex and Sean exactly – they had firsthand experience dealing with Charles’ struggle post-Cuba after all – but Logan thinks they’ve allowed Chuck to lull them into forgetfulness with his Professor X persona over the years.

There are probably very few people in the world who know the real Charles Xavier; sees the side of him that’s full of wicked humor and sarcastic wit. And certainly the ones who had known him best were the ones who hurt him the most so he can’t exactly blame the man for keeping folks at arm’s length. Logan knows a thing or two about self preservation.

Raven looks like she’s about to respond to Sean, when she’s interrupted by new arrivals to the kitchen.

“Good morning Aunt Raven! Hank! Sean! And Logan too!”

Lehnsherr wanders in carrying a beaming Max in his arms, the boy showing no ill effects from the night before. The man himself looks relaxed, like he’s finally pulled the giant stick out of his ass so Logan guesses the talk must have gone well between the three of them. The Prof. rolls in beside him, Ororo on his lap and a soft smile on his face and Logan feels the tension in his shoulders loosen a touch at seeing Chuck so happy and unguarded.

The kids hop to the ground and head over to grab their own breakfasts while Lehnsherr moves to put the kettle on for tea. Charles rolls over to the table and reaches over to squeeze his sister’s hand before turning to address the others, “Good morning everyone. Has anyone seen Alex this morning?”

“I saw him go out for a run first thing,” Hank answers as he reaches for two bowls from the cupboard and hands them to Max. “I think he needed some fresh air and some time alone.”

Sean takes a sip of his coffee and sighs, brows furrowed. “I don’t think he’s been to bed at all. At least I didn’t hear any noise coming from his room all night or this morning.”

The Prof. frowns at Sean’s words before glancing over at Logan. _“I’m sorry about what happened with Alex last night. I’ll talk to him and explain.”_

_“Ain’t nothing to be sorry about. Go find the kid and I’ll keep an eye on Lehnsherr for ya.”_

Charles’ lips curve into a slight smile as a warm chuckle blooms in the back of his head. Logan looks up just in time to catch Lehnsherr watching them, his eyes narrowed at the telepathic conversation no one else seems to have noticed.

“I should go find him.” The Prof. wheels himself towards the door, stopping by the kitchen island where the kids are giggling with each other over their cereal. “You two have fun and try not to get into too much trouble.”

“Okay Daddy!”

“See you later Professor!”

An awkward silence descends amongst the adults once Charles leaves; nobody seems to know what to say or how to act after the events of the previous night. Hank and Sean trade glances and try not to look directly at Lehnsherr while Raven just sits back and eats her toast with an air of indifference. Logan watches as Lehnsherr makes himself a cup of tea and then wanders over to take a seat across from him at the kitchen table.

“Howlett.”

“Lehnsherr.”

The man gives him a wry smirk and takes a languid sip from his cup. He sets the tea down in front of him and says mildly, “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday. Since Raven and I are returning to the mansion for good perhaps you and I should get better acquainted.”

He quirks an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t react. Of course the man is making the first move, staking his claim on Chuck; Logan expects no less from someone like Magneto. Truthfully, he had known as soon as he saw Lehnsherr that things with the Professor would end – Chuck has always been upfront with him about his complicated feelings for Max’s father. And Logan wants the Prof. to be happy, even if it’s with the maniac sitting in front of him.

Course that doesn’t mean he wants Chuck to get hurt again. Or that he has to make it easy for old Mags.

Raven stops eating her toast and stares at her boss. “Erik? Are we really going to stay?”

“It’s true!” Max slides off his stool and runs over to the table, face beaming. “Papa told us last night he’s going to stay. Isn’t that great?”

“Sure kid.” Logan reaches over and musses the boy’s hair, making him laugh. “It’s great ain’t it, Cassidy?”

“Ah...yeah! Great!” Sean smiles uncertainly and looks over at McCoy. “Right Hank?”

Logan’s respect for Hank rises exponentially at the next words that come out of his mouth. “Right...so why didn’t Charles say anything just now? And is it just going to be you and Raven? What about the other members of your team? Are you disbanding the Brotherhood?”

Lehnsherr glares for a few moments before he replies tersely, “Charles and I still have to sort out the details.”

“Meaning you have no idea how this is even going to work.”

The tense silence that follows Hank’s statement makes Max frown at the adults around him. Ororo wanders over and takes his hand, looking worried and then determined before turning to Logan. “Do you think Max and I can train with you today? We’ve been practicing while you’ve been away.”

Max’s face immediately lights up at the suggestion. “Yes Logan! Can we train in the Danger Room today? I love watching you fight!”

Raven doesn’t bother to hide her curiosity, tilting her head to the side as she asks, “What’s the Danger Room?”

Logan looks over at Sean who shrugs and then over at Hank who gives him a quick nod. The kids immediately take off, running out of the kitchen and down the hallway, hollering excitedly as Logan gets up to follow.

“Alright, come on. I’m sure Hank will be happy to give you the tour.”

\---

The early morning run helps to calm him down, the muted colors of the fall foliage a blur as he circles the vast grounds of the School. Alex is relieved that the rain has held off all morning; he needed to work through his pent up emotions outdoors and as far away from the mansion as he could go without actually leaving the estate.

By the time Charles finds him he’s sitting quietly on one of the stone benches in the Rose Garden, one of the Prof’s favorite spots to stop on their regular walks. He’s managed to burn through the irrational anger and feelings of betrayal, leaving only a tired, hollow emptiness in his gut.

“If it’s alright with you Prof., I’d really rather skip the talk.” He drops his head into his hands, staring at the spot on the ground between his feet as Charles rolls to a stop in front of him.

It’s quiet here, a lovely oasis of calm and beauty that Alex has come to associate with Charles. He takes a deep breath and rubs his face before sitting up to face his friend.

The Prof. smiles at him and fuck if seeing that gorgeous face doesn’t make his heart hurt.

“I’m very sorry, Alex.”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head and exhales long and deep. “You don’t owe me any apologies or explanations.”

He can feel Charles' thoughts wrap around him like a blanket, soothing him with real affection and warmth. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

“I’m not angry,” Alex says and then starts to chuckle when Charles gives him a look. “Okay, I’m not angry _any more_. I’ve always known that you didn’t feel the same way and I’m fine with that, really. You and Magneto...I get it. I might not like it, and I might hate what’s he’s done but you have history together. And a son.”

He picks up his jacket sitting next to him on the bench and drapes it over the Prof’s shoulders as he continues, “It’s pretty clear that you’ll always view me and Hank and Sean as your students. I didn’t really think you’d ever look at me and want something more.”

“Alex.” Charles reaches over and takes his hand, holding it gently between his own. “It’s true that a part of me will always think of you three that way but it hasn’t blinded me to the man you’ve become.”

He watches as the Professor hesitates, trying to find the right words to continue. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you what you really mean to me.

“You remember how difficult it was after Cuba and then finding out about Max.” Charles smiles and squeezes his hand. “All three of you were so wonderful, taking care of me and each other when I was incapable of doing anything but feeling sorry for myself. If it hadn’t been for you...I’m so grateful you helped me find my way out of the dark.”

“You did that yourself, Charles. I just helped you remember not to lock yourself in your head and stay there.”

“Do you realize how important you are to me? You and Hank and Sean? You’re my _family_...and after Raven and Erik left...that all of you _stayed,_ and after all these years you’re still here.”

Alex shakes his head and smiles softly. “Course we’re still here. We get free room and board.”

The Professor chuckles and pulls the jacket tighter around him. Their gazes meet and Alex can’t help but be captivated by the intensity of his too blue eyes.

“After Max was born...I admit I was tempted.” Charles doesn’t look away from Alex though he seems embarrassed. “But I knew it wouldn’t have been fair to you, that I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. And I was selfish, Alex. After Erik...I needed you not to leave, more than I needed you as a lover.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt as much as he’d expected to finally hear the words spoken out loud. He takes another deep breath and asks, “And Logan?”

“Logan and I understand each other, and more importantly neither of us wanted anything beyond a simple arrangement between friends. And...Logan didn’t know me before the accident. He doesn’t look at me and see who I used to be without the chair.”

Alex wants to object, that he doesn’t find Charles any less beautiful now than when he first met him eight years ago. That in fact, his attraction to him has only deepened as their friendship had blossomed.

The Prof. shakes his head. “No, I’m not suggesting that you do, that you see me as somehow less than who I was before. It’s difficult to explain, and probably more related to my feelings about Erik...I’m sorry never mind.”

“You think he’ll compare how you are now to how it used to be between you two?”

Charles doesn’t try to hide the sadness that tinges his tired smile. “Perhaps I’m the one who’ll always compare. And he’ll probably never get over the guilt to see past the chair.”

There’s nothing he can think of to say in response, so they just sit in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the quiet of the morning. Finally, Charles reaches out again and carefully pushes his thoughts and feelings at Alex.

_“I’m sorry I hurt you. That I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”_

_“Prof...Charles. You’re my best friend and my mentor. That’s always been more than enough for me.”_

The burst of _relief/love/gratitude_ from Charles makes Alex grin and reach over to pull him into a hug. They pull apart and slowly make their way back inside, Alex pushing the wheelchair while Charles sits quietly and waits.

He holds off for as long as can before he asks what the Prof’s undoubtedly been expecting to hear. “So is he going to stay?”

“Yes. It would appear so.”

“And you believe that he will?”

Charles’ answering laughter is strained. “I know that _he_ believes he’s going to stay.”

“Well I guess that’ll be good for Max then.”

The Professor reaches back to grip his hand and pushes _warmth/trust/affection_ at him. “And how do you feel about it?”

Alex pats the Prof’s hand in return and grins. “I’ll be fine...eventually. I’m a big boy; I can handle Magneto.”

“No doubt.” Charles’ laughter is genuine now as he teases, “Erik should be worried about all of _you_.”

___

As it turns out, the Danger Room is the steel bunker in the bowels of the mansion, expanded and upgraded into the X-Men’s training facility. Raven is only half listening as Hank takes all of them through the secured doors and proceeds to show her and Erik his new inventions.

She can tell that Erik is impressed; the room is a veritable mine field of traps that include projectile firing devices, flamethrowers and collapsing walls. With Ororo’s help they can even train in different weather conditions, the vast ceilings and expansive space allowing them to simulate everything from snow storms to a tropical flood.

Tuning back in to the conversation she manages to catch the tail end of Hank’s explanation, “...reservoir underground to collect rain water and then we use it to fill this room for underwater training.”

“Very impressive, Hank.” Erik moves into the center of the room, doing a 360 degree turn to take in the details. “But why do you need a facility like this when Charles doesn’t think there’s going to be a war?”

Hank wanders over to the main console and flips the switch to power everything down before answering, “I can’t tell if you don’t understand the Prof. at all or if you're just used to underestimating him. Just because we won’t start a war, Erik, doesn’t mean we’re not prepared to fight one.”

She’s surprised that the barb doesn’t garner a stronger reaction from Erik, though Logan snickers and Sean gives Hank a pat on the back. The man is deep in thought, no doubt absorbing Hank’s words while simultaneously thinking of ways to improve the set up.

Max and Ororo have been waiting patiently while the demonstrations are going on, whispering to each other as the adults marveled at Hank’s designs. Finally sensing a lull in activity they run over to Logan and tug on his arm.

“Are you finished yet? Can you train with us now?”

Raven is curious enough to ask, “What exactly are you teaching the kids, Logan? I know you can fight but these two are only seven years old.”

Max shoots her an indignant look and then glares at Ororo when she giggles at his reaction. “We’re not too young! Logan teaches everybody self-defense at the School, even Daddy! It’s important to be prepared, if the School is ever under attack.”

“Has the School been targeted?” Erik looks ready to single-handedly destroy whatever unknown enemy has threatened Charles and Max.

Sean jumps in to explain before the metal starts to melt off the training room walls. “No, no. You know the Prof...he teaches us to expect the best and plan for the worst. We train to improve our powers and to defend, not to attack.”

“Speak for yourself, bub. I always fight to win.”

“Logan’s a great teacher,” Ororo says, gazing up at the man with a mixture of admiration and awe. “He’s the best fighter in the entire School.”

Max nods his head vigorously in agreement. “Yeah, Logan is awesome, Aunt Raven! I bet he can beat anybody in a fight.”

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure Max.” She grins and shoots Erik a look that stops him in his tracks. “He’s never fought against your father.”

“Mystique...”

Logan gives her a feral grin before turning to Erik. “What do you say, Lehnsherr? You want to give the kids a show?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Charles--”

Max interrupts by grabbing Erik’s arm and dragging him over towards the others. “Papa, it’s a great idea! Daddy told me you used to teach him self-defense too, I bet you’re awesome!”

“Yeah, Lehnsherr,” Logan says with a chuckle, “let’s see what you got.”

___

Charles rolls into the Danger Room just in time to see Erik fly across the room and smash against the wall. It’s a hard landing that stuns him momentarily but he’s already on his feet before Charles can make a sound, throwing a punch that knocks Logan to the ground.

Beside him Alex starts to laugh. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost missed this.”

No one notices their arrival, all of them completely engrossed in the fight between the two men. Raven, Hank and Sean are standing close to Ororo and Max, making sure to keep them well away from the brawl.

Neither of them are using their mutations, choosing to fight each other the old fashioned way. Erik is efficient and brutal, relying on his training in Krav Maga to land vicious blows, while Logan is all power and speed, meeting every move with an equally devastating counter attack.

For a moment, Charles considers just turning around and leaving; if they want to beat each other to a pulp then so be it. But Max and Ororo are watching and cheering them on from the sidelines and he doesn’t want the children involved in this little battle of overblown egos.

He rolls forward and projects a message loud and clear into the minds of everyone in the room.

_“STOP.”_

The fight ends abruptly and both Erik and Logan collapse in a heap, bruised and bloody on the floor. Hank and Sean flinch when they see him and Alex by the door but Raven just waves at them and grins. The children run over and start talking to him at the same time.

“Daddy did you see...”

“...Logan threw Mr. Erik across the room...”

“....Papa punched Logan in the face...”

He raises a hand to interrupt their chatter. “Yes I saw enough, thank you. The fight’s over now and I think it would be a good time for you two to go play outside. Logan and Erik both need to get cleaned up.”

Max looks disappointed but doesn’t argue, saying goodbye to the adults before pulling Ororo with him towards the door. Charles watches until they disappear around the corner before rolling to a stop in front of the two men.

“Feel better?”

Logan shrugs and wipes the blood from his split lip before winking at Charles. “Actually, yeah I do. Good fight, Lehnsherr.”

“Sure...yeah...let’s do it again sometime.”

Charles brushes a finger gently across Erik’s bruised and bloody cheek, accidentally pulling a hiss from his former lover. “I'm sorry, darling. Hank, I think you’re going to have to stitch this cut.”

“Okay, Professor. Come on, Erik, let’s get you patched up.”

“What about him?” Erik points to Logan as he struggles to his feet.

“Don’t need it. Give it a minute, I’ll be good as new.”

Both Erik and Raven look surprised and Charles just sighs. None of the others seem particularly concerned (or sorry) that they neglected to explain Logan’s unique combat advantages to their former team mates.

“Come on. I’ll explain ‘accelerated healing powers’ later.”

Logan’s already on his feet, shaking his head and stretching his neck until there’s an audible crack.

“Hey Sean. You want to go next?”

They can still hear the laughter coming from the Danger Room as they round the corner towards the infirmary. Raven and Hank are walking ahead of them, lost in their own discussion about the next upgrade to the training facility. He glances over at Erik who is keeping pace with his chair and sends him a soft pulse of concern.

_“Next time you should probably use your powers.”_

He gets a wink and a pained grin in return. _“Who says there’s going to be a next time?”_

Charles rolls his eyes and chuckles. _“Don’t tell me you’re not already plotting revenge.”_

Erik narrows his eyes for a moment and then answers out loud before stalking ahead of him into the infirmary.

“Getting you back will be revenge enough.”


	18. Charles' Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles' birthday, past and present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry for the long delay getting this chapter posted. I won't bore you with a long winded explanation but suffice to say that I suffered the world's worst case of writer's block with this fic until I finally came up with the idea to flip chapters 18 and 19 around. If you're still reading this...thanks for sticking with it, it's really appreciated!
> 
> * Edited to add that if you're interested, I have posted [a few new drabbles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501139/chapters/1522663) in this universe since the last chapter of MNIM - the most recent one takes place in the time period immediately post BD (Beach Divorce!)

_It’s just after dinner and they’ve all moved to the sitting room to watch television when Raven decides that it’s time._

_It’s been the same since they were children, each determined to make their sibling’s birthday special regardless of circumstances. Sharon would sometimes remember to have one of the maids buy a gift while Kurt hardly cared to acknowledge their existence on a normal day. And so the delighted antics of a twelve and an eight year old their first year together became traditions they carried faithfully into adulthood._

_She ropes Hank and Alex and Sean into helping her in the kitchen, preparing a giant sundae in lieu of a cake. They scoop an entire container each of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream into a large serving dish and then proceed to drown the entire thing with every topping they can find in the kitchen. There are peanuts, chocolate chips, fresh strawberries and sliced bananas, candies and caramel sauce and Sean is almost giddy as he adds the whipped cream and half a jar of cherries to finish it off._

_They carry the sundae along with seven spoons – no bowls, because the whole point is to share – to the sitting room and Charles laughs delightedly as she and the boys and Moira sing a loud and slightly off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Everyone applauds when Charles blows out the single candle and then they all dig in, laughing as Alex and Sean try to see who can shove the most sundae into their mouths at once._

_She catches Erik watching Charles with a faint smile on his lips and she would categorize the look on his face as fond if she didn’t think the man incapable of such an emotion. Dropping next to Charles on the couch she picks up the last spoon and hands it to Erik with a grin. “Come on. You’ve got to try it too. Everyone has to have some birthday sundae.”_

_Hank swallows his mouthful carefully and asks, “Why sundae and not birthday cake?”_

_Charles chuckles and wraps an arm around Raven’s shoulder, his eyes lingering on Erik as the other man takes a small spoonful of vanilla ice cream. “We’ve always celebrated with birthday sundae. When we were kids we couldn’t use the oven to bake so we had to come up with something we could both make.”_

_“Didn’t you have, I don’t know, a cook or something?” Alex snatches the last cherry from the dish, causing a loud groan to erupt from Sean sitting next to him on the floor._

_“I suppose we could have but the point was that we would do things for the other person on their birthday.” Raven scoops a strawberry from the dish and pops it into Charles’ mouth as she continues, “when we were kids we used to entertain each other with our mutations. And then once we were old enough to drive we would actually go out and celebrate; take the other person out for dinner or a movie.”_

_Erik looks up at her words and she smiles, glad to see him show some interest in their conversation. He eyes Charles briefly before turning his attention to Raven and asks, “What did you do? With your mutations?”_

_“Raven would do impressions,” Charles hugs her a bit tighter as he answers Erik with a warm smile of his own, "she was amazing. She would watch the staff for hours or someone on TV over and over until she perfected their voice and mannerisms. That was always the more difficult part to get right.” He turns to her and places a kiss on her cheek before continuing with a grin, “Your Einstein was definitely my favorite.”_

_“Charles would laugh and laugh.” She eyes the others with a mischievous grin before morphing into character complete with wild white hair and lab coat, looking every inch the brilliant scientist. “Mostly because I didn't know what he sounded like. I would use my own voice and make up all kinds of bogus science terms and then shout them while I did cartwheels down the hall.”_

_They all burst into laughter, Raven's description supplemented by the memory Charles shares with everyone from his thirteenth birthday. Moira turns to him with a soft smile that seems just a touch too personal as Raven shifts back to her blond form. “And you, Charles? What did you do for Raven's birthdays?”_

_“Well I-”_

_“Charles would take me anywhere I wanted to go. In our minds with his telepathy.” She jumps in with an explanation, shifting her brother's attention away from the pretty CIA agent. “If I wanted to go to the circus, he could make it seem like we were really there! With elephants and a ring master and clowns! Or we would go swimming in the ocean and suntan on the beach. It was perfect.”_

_They spend another hour telling jokes and sharing stories before Erik gets up and bids them all a good night with a brisk nod. The others take the opportunity to disband as well; Hank to his lab and Sean and Alex to the kitchen to grab another snack before bed, leaving Raven with Charles and Moira to clean up._

_They gather the cutlery and empty glasses quietly, Charles glancing absently towards the door while Moira watches him with keen focus. It’s not that she doesn’t like the other woman, Raven thinks, but she’s not entirely sure that it’s in her brother’s best interest to get involved with a government agent. If she had to choose between her job and their safety, could Moira be counted on to put them first?_

_“Charles.” Her voice seems to pull him back to the present and he turns to her with a distracted smile. “Do you think you should check on Erik? He was pretty quiet tonight.”_

_Moira chuckles as she stacks the dirty spoons on the now ravaged ice-cream dish. “He’s quiet every night, Raven. Erik’s not exactly the talkative type.”_

_“I’m sure he’ll be fine, love.” Charles squeezes her arm gently before leading them towards the kitchen, arms loaded. “I’ll speak to him before I turn in.”_

_“All right. Just don’t stay up all night talking about Shaw. It’s your birthday, Charles. You deserve a break.”_

_“No...don’t worry. I’m sure there won’t be any talking tonight.”_

\---

He watches the party outside from a quiet corner in the sitting room, the sunlight pouring in through the large bay windows. It’s a beautiful, late September day and the entire school is out on the manicured grounds celebrating their beloved Professor’s birthday.

Erik has been watching them all morning, the whole mansion buzzing with excitement as teachers and students work together on preparations for the party. It’s a tradition, Max tells him - breathless, as he explained everything during breakfast with Charles - that they celebrate every year with a picnic and an afternoon of activities on the grounds.

_“We play soccer and tag and Alex always organizes a treasure hunt! And we eat lunch outside on blankets on the grass and then Sean brings out the birthday cake and Daddy always lets me choose the first slice even though it’s his birthday and not mine!”_

The children are playing soccer now, with the teachers interspersed between the two teams. Max and Ororo are laughing as they chase after the ball, their own private team of two as they giggle and point at various antics on the field.

He’s fascinated by the open display of everyone’s mutations, as Hank leaps into the air to block the goal with his feet, knocking the ball away from the net. It sails high above the heads of Alex and his brother Scott, soaring fast and seemingly straight for Bobby’s head before it stops abruptly and hangs in mid air. There are shouts of encouragement and mock indignation all around as Max grins mischievously before dropping the ball in front of the other boy, a mere inch before the wall of ice that’s suddenly appeared in front of the would-be victim.

Charles is clapping and shouting from his place on the sidelines, his face alight with joy and fierce pride for their son and all his young charges. Mrs. Bradley sits next to him on the blanket, laughing as Charles blows the whistle to signal the end of the first half and then shifts out of the way as two sweaty, giddy bundles hurl themselves into the Professor’s lap.

“It’s strange isn’t it?” Raven’s voice is soft as she moves to stand beside him, eyes looking out at the mix of young and old, crowded around Charles as they all clamor for attention. “Watching him here at the School with his students. This is where he belongs; surrounded by people who love him and hang onto his every word.” She turns to him and smirks but the look on her face is sad, not mocking. “When we were kids we dreamed about a place just like this, where we would be appreciated for our gifts and protected from people who hated us for being different. And now...”

“Now,” he murmurs, taking both the offer and the promise laid out before him in pristine autumn greens and golds. “Now that it actually exists, you’re not sure you have a place here.”

\---

Later, much later – after Max drags him and Raven outside to join in the festivities, sharing a slice of cake with his son as Charles looks on with amusement – he is finally alone with his ex-lover, sitting across the chess board in the study. In these last few days since Max found out about Cuba (and Erik promised to stay on at the mansion), Charles has stopped leaving immediately after their son heads up to bed. Neither of them address the sudden change to his routine; Erik only too happy to have Charles to himself even though their time together is filled mostly with long silences between turns.

He watches intently as Charles contemplates his next move, eyes sweeping over the remaining pieces as he takes a leisurely sip from his tea cup. Erik can’t help but stare at him, cataloguing all the changes since their brief time together; grey hair creeping in around his temples, the fine webbing starting to show around his eyes, the muscle in his biceps straining against the fabric of his crisp long sleeved shirt. He’s every bit as beautiful as Erik remembers and the rosy, nostalgic glow of his memories doesn’t begin to do justice to the man that Charles Xavier has become in the last eight years.

The Professor chuckles, lips curving into a wry smile as he teases, “You’re staring. Is there something on my face?”

He doesn’t answer, though he does smile in response before getting out of his chair and towards the mantle above the fireplace. Erik pulls the package from its hiding place behind the large picture frame and hands it to Charles with a hesitant smile. “Happy Birthday.”

Charles arches a brow at him but doesn’t say a word, taking the gift from Erik and settling it onto his lap. He traces the edges of the wrapping paper gently with his fingers before tearing the package open to reveal a gorgeous, mint condition copy of ‘The Once and Future King’.

“It’s a signed copy I found it in a London bookstore a couple of years ago, and it...made me think of you.”

“Thank you, Erik.” Charles beams at him with such warmth and appreciation that it hits him like a punch in the gut, reminding him of their relationship before he left, when Charles would light up with such delight and affection each time Erik opened himself up to the telepath. It fills him with shame and self loathing, to know that he’s never really been able to show the other man the depth of his feelings; that Charles loved him anyway, when he knew how much Erik was holding himself back.

“You’re welcome.”

“It’s the second nicest birthday present you’ve ever given me,” Charles says with a sly smirk and Erik lets out a sharp bark of laughter, his mind taking him back to a night years ago when the two of them had celebrated the telepath’s birthday into the early morning hours.

_“Erik...”_

_He yanks Charles inside his room and kicks the door closed, maneuvering his back against the wall, pressing the hard line of Erik's body all around him._

_“I’m going to fuck you," he breathes, sucking a bruise on the soft pale throat as Charles bares his neck for Erik and moans. "Just like this, up against the wall. Strip you naked and turn you around and lick you open. Fuck you with my fingers until you’re begging me. Begging me to slide my cock inside you and fuck you until you come. Would you like that? Do you want me to fuck you for your birthday, Charles?”_

_His lover groans, mouth hot and slick as he kisses back roughly, hand rubbing teasingly against Erik's erection. “Yes. Fuck...yes! Best...ah...birthday present ever.”_

If Charles is aware of the direction of Erik’s thoughts he gives no indication, his eyes glued to the book in his lap as he flips the pages idly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Erik leans forward and takes one of Charles' hands.

“I’m sorry that I’ve missed so many birthdays. Your's and Max’s.”

Charles slides his hand around to grip Erik’s, rubbing his thumb gently across scarred knuckles as he answers softly, “You’re here now. That’s...that helps.”

“Will you share your memories with me?” He holds the man’s gaze, even as he moves to take both of Charles' hands in his own. “Will you show me what I’ve missed? All these years; there’s so much I want to know about you and Max. I want this...please, Charles.”

His ex-lover sighs, pulling away from Erik. “I’m sorry, but I can’t share my memories with you without going into your mind. And I promised you I would stay out of your head.”

He frowns...if Erik didn’t know better he would think Charles was using his earlier promise as an excuse to deny his request. “I appreciate you holding to your promise but I’m the one asking you. I’m giving you permission. Charles, you must know that I trust you not to tamper with my thoughts. I wouldn’t have stayed here these last few weeks without my helmet if that weren’t the case.”

“It’s not...that’s not the only reason.” He rubs the bridge of his nose and lets out a frustrated breath. “The memories are tied to more than just the recollection of the events themselves. I can’t separate what happened from what I was feeling and thinking at the time; the events in my memory are as I experienced them. As I _lived_ them and I can’t...I’m sorry I just can’t...”

Erik nods in understanding, though he’s a bit numb as the meaning behind Charles’ words wash over him. “You don’t want to open yourself up to me. You don't trust me.”

Charles grimaces but doesn’t offer a denial. Instead, he reaches for Erik’s hand again and squeezes it gently. “Not ‘never’, darling. Just...not right now. I’m sorry.”

And that’s probably a better answer than he could have expected.


	19. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles negotiate their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far, the most difficult chapter I've ever written for any fic. I'm glad to have finished it though I've written and rewritten it so many times I can't honestly tell you how I feel about it. I will however, say that I hope my resolution to their impasse does not come across as too simplistic; I simply believe that circumstances in this story have brought them both to a point in their lives where they are more willing to listen and make changes to their chosen paths. I love both Professor X and Magneto equally - I hope that comes across when you read this fic. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Erik, I won’t force any of my X-Men to join your Brotherhood.”

“Force? I’m not forcing anyone to do anything! But I have to be able to lead them on missions, Charles. You said it yourself, we can’t have two separate teams in the field with different objectives.”

___

 

“...No. We can’t simply sit on our hands and hope that the government comes around eventually. Any time we waste is time they spend developing weapons against us. New ways to control us.”

“There’s more than just one way to fight for our rights. We need to educate people on the science around mutation. We can work to influence the public and private sectors; we need time and patience. Violence isn’t the only way...”

___

 

“How long Erik?"

“What?”

“How long before you decide Max is old enough? Before you make our son a soldier in your war?”

___

 

Three days.

They’ve been at it for three days, the two of them all but locked in the study, trying to come to an agreement on the future of the X-Men and the Brotherhood. More importantly (or the same thing really) they are negotiating their own futures and the role Erik will play in Charles’ and Max’s lives. It requires commitment on both their parts, along with the willingness to compromise and to move past their troubled history.

When he'd made the decision and promised his son he would stay on at the School, Erik genuinely believed he and Charles could make it work. That _he_ would make it work. There’s nothing and no one in the world he loves more than his new found family, and he’s determined to do everything he can to come to an arrangement they can both support whole heartedly.

Now, as he watches Charles roll out of the study with barely a backwards glance, he thinks he might have spoken too soon and made promises to Max that he doesn’t know how to keep.

Charles’ words sting, his accusations still ringing in his ears as he rubs his forehead and sighs. Leaning back in his chair he stares at the flames in the fireplace and tries to quell his brewing impatience and irritation with his former lover. For all that Charles has stated his desire for Erik and Raven to come home, his behaviour the last few days has him completely at a loss.

A light knock at the open study door pulls Erik out of his thoughts and he looks up to see Sean wandering in, setting a martini on the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa. He doesn’t understand why Cassidy has brought him a drink of all things, and says so, in a tone that’s not a little wary.

Sean just chuckles, the ice in his own glass tinkling softly as he takes a sip and says, “You look like shit, Magneto. Thought you could use something stronger than the tea you and the Prof. have been living on the last few days.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t know what else to say, and being around his former team is uncomfortable at best, their interactions still fraught with tension. Alex’s contempt at least is easy to handle; Erik knows the sentiment well and doesn’t begrudge him his anger and resentment. His dealings with Hank and Sean though are vastly different, and he’s realized in the last few weeks that the two of them aren’t anything like the young men he used to know.

At a glance, Hank is not far off from how Erik remembers him; still soft spoken and prone to excited ramblings about his latest projects. He carries himself these days with a lot more poise and confidence, an awareness and lithe grace that speaks to an understanding and acceptance of his enhanced abilities. There’s a quiet strength about him that Erik admires; a willingness to stand against Magneto and challenge his views and actions intellectually as easily as Alex is ready to do the same physically. They are Charles’ champions – their unwavering dedication to the Professor and his ideals such a stark contrast to the transient loyalties of his own followers in the Brotherhood.

And where Alex has styled himself protector and guardian, and Hank as wise council and spokesperson, Sean has taken on the unlikely role of caretaker to Charles’ family of mutants, young and old. The man in front of him is centered and keenly aware of everything around him, nothing of the excitable young man he remembers shoving off the satellite platform all those years ago.

“How’s it going with the Prof?” It’s a loaded question that’s delivered with a tone completely devoid of judgement, managing to ease Erik back from a vicious retort.

“It’s...” He shakes his head and takes a drink of his martini, swirling the olive around the bottom of the glass as he admits, “It could be better.”

Sean snorts loudly at his comment and shakes his head. “I can imagine.”

“Can you?” He arches an eyebrow and watches Sean settle into his seat across the way, stretching his legs onto the coffee table. A few minutes pass in silence before Erik takes another sip and says, reluctantly, “I’m...not sure how we’re going to make this work."

“Why?”

“We’re going in circles.” Erik shrugs, leaning back in the armchair. “Our differing views haven’t changed in the last eight years. And we can’t seem to come remotely close to a compromise on any issue we’ve discussed.”

The curiosity is evident in Sean’s eyes though he doesn’t seem terribly surprised at the revelation. And he doesn’t hesitate to demand an example from Erik. “Like what?”

“I suggested that we merge our two teams. Having more skills and more support during operations will make it easier and safer. We’ll have more flexibility in the field, and more people available for back-up to handle surprises.”

“And who’s going to lead the missions? You, I assume.” There’s no dismissal or anger in Sean’s tone; just a simple statement of fact.

Erik nods and continues, “Charles said no. He was adamant that Alex wouldn’t agree to it and that he would never force him, or any of you to follow my orders.”

“Well the Prof. is right about Alex,” Sean answers, tapping the edge of his glass absently as he mulls over Erik’s words. “He’s field command for the X-Men so you’d need his support to make it work. And he doesn’t trust you, Erik, so there’s no way he’s going to take orders from you.”

He tries hard to rein in his frustration at Sean’s comments, though his reply is still delivered through gritted teeth. “Perhaps Alex can be convinced to put his personal feelings about me and Charles aside and do what’s best for the team.”

Sean ignores his barb, remaining perfectly affable in his response. “You might not believe this Erik, but there's more to it than just how he feels about you and Charles. There’s a pretty big difference in the way the X-Men and the Brotherhood function; more than just a simple case of who gets to be in charge.”

“Explain.”

Sean leans forward in his seat, pulling his feet off the coffee table and asks, randomly, “Why does your team follow you?”

“What? What does that have to do with--”

He’s cut off mid-sentence by a small wave. “Just...trust me, I’m going somewhere with this. Answer the question, please.”

Erik narrows his eyes and bites back the surge of irritation, choosing to tolerate the line of questioning for now. “Many reasons. Because they’ve been hurt by humans before and don’t want to be in that position ever again. Some are angry and some are scared. All have good reasons to fight for their freedom and their right to live without fear.”

“And some for good old-fashioned revenge,” Sean murmurs quietly, shaking his head, “though I can understand why they would feel that way. My point though, is that for all intents and purposes the Brotherhood is an army, and you are its General. You lead and they follow and I doubt you allow anyone, except maybe Mystique, to question or contradict your orders.”

“It gets the job done,” he argues, not understanding the direction Cassidy is taking.

Sean gives him a slightly amused look but continues without acknowledging the rebuttal, “The X-Men, it’s not like that with us. Charles will always involve the whole team in planning our missions...”

“I _listen_ to my team...”

“...and we follow orders without question because we trust each other with our lives. And we trust each other to make decisions that the whole team can support and defend.”

It would be easy to scoff at Sean’s words; to discount the sentiments being conveyed as having no real place in war. And yet he can’t but acknowledge that these very real differences between the X-Men and the Brotherhood are the reason he and Charles have struggled to come to a compromise. The Professor’s team loves him and follows him with unwavering loyalty, whilst his own people are ruled predominately by fear or need...and sometimes, a fear of Magneto himself.

In truth he’s not ashamed of it; fear is an emotion he understands well and has no problems manipulating. Abilities and passion are enough to bring mutants to his side, and sheer power and a ruthless nature keep them in check. But he’s not fool enough to think he can trust most of them to guard his back, let alone with his life.

“So it’s hopeless then? There’s no chance of compromise? To find a way to make this work?”

“You understand don’t you, Erik? Why we don’t trust you? Why the Prof. doesn’t?” Sean shakes his head, the look on his face sad despite his placid tone of voice. “You left us in the middle of nowhere, with Charles injured and no way for us to get help. We were on that beach for six hours, Magneto, before Hank fixed the radio and Moira was able to convince the CIA to come for us. And even then, Charles had to use his powers on them, so they wouldn’t take us into custody.”

He _does_ understand; realized mere hours after he left with Raven and the members of Shaw’s old team that he had essentially abandoned Charles and the others in a war zone. Once the haze of rage and adrenaline and the pain of Charles’ words had cleared he had...doubted. It had seemed his only course of action to take in that heated moment; to demand that a choice be made in the face of expected and utter betrayal by the humans.

An impulsive and - he felt at the time - justified decision to put as much distance as possible between himself and the man who refused to stand with him, united against a common enemy.

The man he loved who chose _them_ and rejected _him_.

And Erik had chosen too; to turn from Charles and leave in his righteous fury and indignation, shedding their unspoken promises like the discarded shell of a life he never should have wanted and couldn’t keep.

If Sean has any clue to the mad tumult of his thoughts, or notices the bone white of his knuckles as he clenches his fingers on the arm rest, he makes no mention of it. He barely seems to see Erik as he takes another sip of his drink, wiping a finger distractedly on the film of water coating his glass.

“It was really bad...for a long time. When we first got back to the mansion we had no clue what to do. Charles sent Moira away not long after that. He never said anything to us but we know he was devastated that yet another person he cared about was gone from his life for good.

“Those first few months...between his therapy, and then finding out about Max and his mutation...and then he tried to reach you and you never wrote back. The Prof...well it was hell for him, as I’m sure you can guess, though in the end it made us all stronger. Closer. And Max’s birth tied us together in a way that’s difficult to explain.”

“I can’t change the past, Sean.” He rubs his face tiredly, feeling wretched and hopeless and pretending not to see the sympathetic glance directed his way. “I can only try to change things going forward. But I can’t do it alone. No matter Charles’ reservations, he’s going to have to try. Otherwise, there's no point for any of this."

Sean leans forward, arms braced on his knees as he answers, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The Prof. is trying but it’s going to take time. And patience. Something you’re not really known for, I know.” With a grin reminiscent of his much younger self he continues, “Don’t give up because he _does_ want this, more than he’s willing to admit. But he still thinks you’re going to leave, if he just pushes you hard enough. Understand?”

“Why?”

Sean shakes his head slightly. “Why what?”

“Why are you telling me all this? Helping me?”

A smile again, full of good humor. “Because having you back will make Charles happy. And nobody deserves it more.”

 

\---

 

The interrogation begins, the moment he walks back into the kitchen.

“Well? How did it go?”

“Are they making any progress?”

Alex doesn’t say anything, nursing a beer as the others bombard Sean with their questions. He walks over to the fridge and grabs one for himself, popping the cap off with the bottle opener before sliding into the seat at the kitchen island next to Hank.

He shrugs and says with a soft sigh, “My talk with Erik was fine. And it’s going as well as we expected. Which means not very well at all.”

Raven snorts, drumming her fingers impatiently on the marble counter. “What did you expect with those two stubborn idiots? What are they fighting about?”

“Lots of things, I think. But the biggest issue is what to do about the X-Men and the Brotherhood.”

Hank nudges him gently with his elbow, eyebrow raised in question. “You think they’ll be able to sort this out themselves?”

Sean watches as Alex gets up from the kitchen table and walks out without a word. He shares a look with the others in the awkward silence that follows, though neither Raven nor Hank say anything or attempt to call him back.

“I don’t know.” He takes a swig of his beer and grimaces. “I hope so. I think they both really want to make this work, they just haven’t figured out how to do it.”

“Then let’s help them figure it out,” Alex interrupts, stalking back into the room with a pen and legal pad. “We know how the Prof. thinks, and we _are_ the X-Men. We know what decisions have to be made and what we can live with.” He stares pointedly at Raven and says with an air of impatience, “Can you negotiate on Magneto’s behalf? Does he actually let anyone else in the Brotherhood have opinions?”

The smile that crosses Raven’s face sends an involuntary shiver down Sean’s spine, ‘unfriendly’ a gross understatement for the look she levels at an unimpressed Alex. “Yes, I can speak for Magneto, ” she answers, voice silky smooth as ice.

Hank rolls his eyes at them both and exhales loudly with a frustrated sigh before picking up the pen and pad. “Alright then. Shall we begin?”

 

\---

 

_July 12, 1963_

_Erik,_

_Our son was born on June 3rd, weighing six pounds eight ounces. Max is healthy and perfect and is adjusting well to life at the mansion._

_Be assured that I love him more than I can say and I will do my very best to be a good father. When he is old enough to understand, I will tell him about you._

_I won’t be writing to you anymore._

_Charles_

 

\---

 

The memories don’t fade with time, a blessing and a curse that has plagued Charles Xavier for as long as he can remember.

Every moment he ever spent with Erik is preserved with crystal clarity and readily accessible, to relive in all of their joy and heartache, glory and despair.

It hurts to deny Erik his memories of Max, when all Charles has wanted for the last eight years was just this; for his lover to welcome him back into his heart and his mind. But the thought of sharing such an intimacy again fills him with dread; for Charles to bare his soul and lose himself in Erik’s brilliance, to gamble with their fragile truce and his own hard won peace of mind.

And from the way their discussions have been going the past three days, Charles can’t help but think it’s the wisest course. Because the risks aren’t just his own to take this time ( _his_ life, _his_ heart, _his legs_ ); he has Max’s well being to consider before all else.

His musings and his doubts follow him all day, through a subdued breakfast with Erik and Max, his morning classes and then a late lunch with Raven. Retreating to the library gives him some much needed time to relax and regroup, though his break is interrupted by Max’s sudden and much welcomed arrival.

“Hi Daddy!” Max greets him with a toothy grin and a gentle push of _missedyouwhyareyouinherebyyouselfwhat’swrong_ and Charles sets his book on the table beside him to make room for the little boy on his lap. “What are you reading?” he asks out loud, instead of the questions bouncing around in his head. “‘The Once and Future King’? Is that your birthday present from Papa?”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorites. Reading it helps me think.”

Max turns his head to look up at him, eyes bright and steady as he says without hesitation, “You’re feeling sad today...and a little scared. You’re thinking about Papa, aren’t you? Whether he’ll leave anyway, even though he said he would stay.”

Though Charles is shielding most of his concerns and disagreements with Erik, the little boy’s empathic abilities still manage to sense his unease, proving that in this aspect of their shared gift at least, Max’s powers are outpacing his own at the same age. And there’s also the fact that their son is smart enough and observant enough to put the pieces together without his telepathy; of his parents’ struggle over the past few days to carve out a place for Erik at the School.

Charles wraps his arms around Max and places a gentle kiss on the top of his head, brushing the soft brown curls with a touch meant to comfort. He wishes more than anything that he can guarantee the idyllic future his sweet, perfect boy craves but it would be pointless and irresponsible to lie. He knows better than his naive self eight years ago, just how little his desires have ever held sway over Erik’s intentions.

“He really does want to be here, Max. And I can promise you that your Papa and I are doing our very best to make it happen.”

Max’s body curls a little tighter against his chest in answer, _“I’m scared too, Daddy. I don’t want him to leave.”_

_“Me neither, love. Me neither.”_

 

\---

 

When Charles arrives at the study after dinner, gut clenched with trepidation and mentally prepared for a fourth day of arguments and lack of progress he finds the room unexpectedly occupied. Raven and Hank are seated on the couch with their heads bent together speaking quietly, a small stack of papers placed neatly in front of them on the coffee table. Alex is standing in front of the fireplace with his back turned, arms crossed and body tense while Sean is humming softly under his breath as he paces back and forth across the room.

He can feel Erik coming up just a couple of paces behind him, a sharp and wary edge of surprise radiating from him as he takes in the same scene. The others all turn as he rolls into the room, their faces determined and minds loud with worry and anticipation.

“This is a surprise.” The droll comment doesn’t hide the suspicion that colors Erik’s words as the man glares at the unexpected – and unwelcome - audience. “What are you all doing here?”

The reactions from the others vary; Raven rolls her eyes while Hank sits up straighter in his seat, hand reaching absently to brush the stack of papers in front of him. There’s a derisive snort from Alex and an amused chuckle from Sean and Charles can’t help but let out his own exasperated sigh in response. “Erik, please.”

They each make their way to their usual seat; Erik dropping elegantly into his armchair in front of the chess board and Charles gliding smoothly into the space across from him. There are a few beats of uncomfortable silence as the two of them wait for the others to make their intentions known.

“Ahem.” Hank shifts himself forward on the couch, clearing his throat before he starts, “We’re here to help you come to an agreement regarding the X-Men and the Brotherhood.”

“Really?” Erik arches an eyebrow, the curiosity barely discernible as he and Charles share a look of muted surprise. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“Here, we made a list,” Hank answers, taking the papers he's been subtly arranging on the coffee table and offering copies to them both with a quirk of his lips. “We went through the key issues you're likely to be working through and came up with some...recommendations.”

Raven cuts in before he has a chance to elaborate, “What Hank is trying to say so very diplomatically, is that we've hashed out most of the sticking points you two have been arguing about the last few days and have come to what we think will be an agreeable solution to both sides.”

“You think we need your help--”

Alex turns to face them at last, expression impassive as he interrupts Erik's objection with a brisk retort. “Yes, we all think you two needed the help,” he snaps, “not because you're not brilliant, capable men but because you are both incredibly stubborn, opinionated and much too emotionally invested in the outcome of these negotiations to think beyond the limits of your own egos. Trust us to know when to let you lead and when to provide support.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Sean interjects with a soft chuckle, “Alex and Raven did a more than admirable job fighting it out on behalf of the X-Men and the Brotherhood. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how thorough we've been.”

Charles looks around the room, the pride and fierce loyalty on the faces of his loved ones helping to ease some of the uncertainty he's been wrestling with the past few days. “I trust you, all of you. Tell us what you've come up with. Please.”

“The Brotherhood--”

Erik interrupts with a sigh that's almost resigned. “Let me guess. You want me to disband The Brotherhood.”

Hank continues speaking without missing a beat, “--and the X-Men should continue to exist as separate entities. Though of course there will be a lot more communication and information sharing going forward.”

“We can't disband the Brotherhood for a number of reasons,” Sean adds, “no offence but there are some very dangerous folks on your team, Erik. Not just hostile to humans but potentially harmful to mutants too. And we can't very well bring everybody here to live with us at the School. The safety of the children is our first priority.”

“The government won't believe that the Brotherhood has just suddenly disappeared overnight after eight years of activity.” Raven voice is brittle as she continues, “They'll assume we're hiding and planning something big and go on the offensive. Better to have their focus stay on us; we can't risk the CIA diverting more resources identifying mutants and taking them into custody. Or god forbid, turn their focus here.”

Hank waves his hands around as he speaks, caught up in the explanation as he continues on, “The Brotherhood serves a purpose, you see. Think of it as good cop, bad cop but with the X-Men and the Brotherhood. Fear – the threat of violence and retaliation is in itself a deterrent. And fear will keep the government from going too far and pushing too hard, too fast; give us time to change public perceptions about mutants.”

“I don't understand, it doesn't really sound like much of a change from how things are now? Erik still runs the Brotherhood and I still run the X-Men and we're still at odds.”

“And how can I live in the mansion if I'm running the Brotherhood? How is any of this _helping_ us?”

“You're not at odds,” Alex says with a sigh. “No more killing humans. We will protect ourselves and any mutants in danger but we don't strike preemptively. Not anymore.

“But we won't just sit and wait for the public or the government to change their minds about mutants either. We actively work to further mutant rights. In public through legislation, funding, education. We run the School and provide a safe place for those who need it. And behind the scenes we rescue mutants in danger; destroy illegal facilities and research.”

“What matters is that you run things together,” Hank adds. “You make decisions regarding the Brotherhood, the X-Men and the School _together_. Compromise. Not violence as the first step but as a last resort. You can do this together, the two of you. The way it was always meant to be.”

Hank's last words hang, palpable in the silence that follows as they all wait with bated breath for their reaction. As usual, Erik is completely unreadable, though Charles is quietly hopeful, allowing himself to believe they may finally be on their way to a workable arrangement.

After what seems like an eternity, Erik is the one to speak first.

“Assuming we agree to this...compromise, we'll have to work out a living schedule. Perhaps I live here two weeks every month? I want to be here as much as I can for Max but I can't leave the Brotherhood without a leader. They're not like your team, Charles, I need to be there to watch--”

Raven slips out of her seat and crouches in front of Erik, taking his hand. “You're right. The Brotherhood does need someone there, to watch them and to run things day to day. But that person isn't going to be you.”

“What are you...? Yyou're not saying...”

“I am.” She nods and grins at him, fierce and determined. “You'll live here with Charles and Max, and I'll stay at the base and handle the Brotherhood's operations.”

Raven turns to Charles next, taking his hand with her free one. “I want you both to know this isn't a rash decision on my part; I've been doing a lot of thinking about this. This house, this life; it's not _me_ and hasn't been for a long time. I want to be your sister, Charles, and Max's aunt, but I don't have to live here to do that. I'll visit, as often as I can though I know it isn't the same as being here all the time. I just...I want to do my part, to make things right...for everything. I love you.”

“I love you too, Raven,” is all Charles can think to say in return before they are moving down Hank's long list, the realization of _concessions_ and _compromise_ and _progress_ giving form to years of unfulfilled dreams.

He's bursting with optimism, for the first time since before Cuba, that he and Erik will stand together. Enough to believe since Erik's arrival at the School that another painful break wasn't inevitable.

He's thrilled.

Though the departures that follow in the coming months really shouldn't have surprised him.


	20. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven isn't the only one who leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied reference to abortion and self directed ableism in a flashback.

Raven is the first to leave, on a windy day in late October, three weeks after Charles’ birthday.

_She’s getting good at recognizing the signs, to know which of the newly rescued mutants will be willing recruits and which are likely to bolt at the first opportunity. Petra is very obviously the latter, her manner stiff and uncomfortable from the moment Magneto and his team break her out of the police station in New York._

_Mystique follows her at a discreet distance and watches as the girl - perhaps a couple of years younger than herself - grabs her backpack and proceeds to sneak out of the abandoned warehouse. Emma is aware of course, but doesn’t care enough to alert the others and Magneto has standing orders that none of the mutants they rescue should be forced to stay against their will._

_It’s a shame she thinks, that Petra doesn’t want to remain with the Brotherhood. Her ability to manipulate the elements of earth – stone, dirt, rock, sand – is useful and complementary to Magneto’s own power over magnetism. Perhaps if she speaks to Petra and reassures her of their intention to help mutants everywhere she can convince the younger girl to join their fight._

_“What do you want?”_

_She’s impressed; Petra has good instincts and isn’t afraid of confrontation. Stepping out from behind the stack of cardboard boxes she says, tone purposely neutral, “Going somewhere?”_

_The conflicting emotions on the girl’s face are easy to read, a mix of fear and determination as she turns towards Mystique and stands with her feet slightly apart and shoulders back. “Yeah, I’m leaving.”_

_Mystique smiles, a softer and warmer one than she’s used in years, now usually reserved exclusively for the children they rescue. “Why don’t you stay?” she asks gently, raising her hands slowly and taking a step closer to the other girl poised anxiously by the door. “The Brotherhood can use someone like you. You can help us rescue other mutants. Fight against the humans who’ve done nothing but hurt us and make them pay.”_

_Petra stares at her for a moment and then shakes her head, her posture relaxing slightly. “Thanks. But I’m not interested.”_

_“Not interested? Don’t you want to help others the way we helped you? If the humans are left unchecked they’ll try to kill every single mutant they find! You know what they’re like you’ve experienced it firsthand--”_

_“I don’t want to fight!” Petra yells, interrupting her growing irritation at the girl’s apathetic response to their plight. “I’ve been fighting for years! Since my family died all I’ve done is fight! Fight to survive! Fight for food, for a place to stay! To learn to control my ability so I don’t accidentally kill anyone with my powers!” She stops abruptly, unclenching her fists and then stares at Mystique before shaking her head again and says quietly, “I’m tired of fighting. I just want to feel safe.”_

_They stare at each other for a few minutes, neither one flinching from the other’s gaze before Mystique sighs and asks, “Where will you go?”_

_Petra bites her lip and turns her head away though Mystique can see the glimmer in her eyes from unshed tears. “Don’t know. There’s nobody left I just...I’ll figure it out.”_

_A place where she can feel safe. Where she doesn’t have to search for her next meal or a roof over her head. Where she won’t have to be alone, struggling to come to terms with her mutant powers. A place for healing and for love._

_Mystique smiles ruefully, heart sore as she looks at the scared and lost girl she might have been, if she hadn’t stumbled all those years ago into an empty kitchen, in a near empty mansion in the woods._

_“I know a place you can go.”_

\---

It takes Raven about fifteen minutes of searching to realize that Max is hiding from her, having refused for the last couple of weeks to acknowledge her impending departure and her decision to stay at the Brotherhood base of operations instead of the School. The seven year old isn’t in any of his usual haunts and none of the students have seen him, Ororo also conspicuously absent since breakfast.

She climbs the narrow staircase on the third floor to her and Charles’ hiding place as children, the sprawling attic a warren of hidden alcoves and long forgotten pieces of the Xavier legacy. There, in the far corner behind an old yellow bed sheet nailed to the thick wooden beams, the heated words of two young voices drift through the dusty, empty space.

“She’s leaving today, Max! You have to talk to her!”

“No! I don’t want to see her! She said she would stay with me and Daddy and now she’s leaving! She’s a liar and I don’t want to talk to her!”

A sob, followed by soft, soothing noises from Ororo. “She loves you and the Prof. You know she’s doing this so your Papa can stay. If you don’t say goodbye, you’ll feel bad later, Max.”

“What if she doesn’t—“ The words are cut off mid sentence, followed by a pointed mental rebuff as soon as Max feels her presence.

_Go away._

She signs and steps forward, ducking around the sheet and slipping without a word into Max and Ororo’s hiding place. There are two sleeping bags amidst piles of comfortable looking pillows in different shapes and sizes, and an open backpack with juice bottles and junk food peeking out from behind a giant stack of books.

Ororo attempts to push Max towards her and then sighs loudly when he refuses to budge from his spot on the floor. Raven gives her a soft smile which the young girl returns, before focusing her attention on the scowling boy at her feet.

“You’re angry with me.”

Max doesn’t acknowledge her, arms wrapped around a large blue pillow, his eyes scrunched closed and face buried in the soft cotton fabric. She sits down in front of him, beckoning to Ororo to take a seat beside them on an old Persian rug that covers their corner of the cold attic floor.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me,” Raven begins, keeping her voice steady even as her heart clenches in the face of Max’s anger. “And that’s okay, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But I have a few things I’d like to say to you, before I go.”

Ororo reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing it gently in a show of support that makes Raven smile. She’s become incredibly fond of both her nephew and his best friend since her arrival at the mansion, and is more than a little relieved that Ororo will be around to help Max deal with the perceived abandonment.

“I love you, Max,” she says gently, brushing a loose brown curl from his forehead and tucking it behind his ear absently. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you contacted me and asked Erik and I to come home. You’ve given me my brother back and a chance to get to know my amazing, brilliant nephew.

“I know you’re disappointed that I won’t be staying here with your Papa but sometimes grownups have to make tough choices and not everyone is happy with the outcome. Right now you need Erik here the most and since someone needs to run the Brotherhood that means I’m the one that has to go back. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you or that I don’t want to be here and I promise that I’ll come to visit you as often as I can.”

She waits patiently for a response but Max refuses to look at her, ignoring Ororo’s poking and Raven gently brushing her hand through his hair. Finally, she kisses the top of his head and stands, giving Ororo a hug before heading to find Charles and say their own goodbyes.

“Wait.”

Raven is almost at the top of the staircase when she hears Max running up behind her, turning just in time to catch the little boy as he flings himself into her arms. She holds him tightly, Ororo watching quietly as he cries.

“You’ll come back won’t you?” he asks, hiccupping softly as the sobs slowly taper off.

“Yes.” She hugs him even tighter, kissing both his cheeks and squeezing him until he squirms. “I’ll be back in a few weeks and then again at Christmas.”

Max pulls away and looks up at her, expression uncertain. She catches the thread of _willyoureallycomebackyouleftbeforeandnevercamebackforDaddy_ before her nephew clamps down on the thought, an embarrassed look on his face at the momentary loss of control.

Raven takes a moment to sort through her thoughts and tangled emotions, regret and sorrow warring with her instinct to defend her decision to follow Magneto. She smiles sadly, crouching down so she can look at Max face-to-face.

“I should have come back to see Charles much sooner; should never have lost touch with him at all,” she admits. “I was angry, and blamed him for some things that were his fault and some that weren’t. I guess I needed time away to understand myself better and why I felt the need to leave.

“I’ve always regretted the way we left, Erik and I, and I can’t change what’s happened in the past but I do want to make things better going forward. I know it’s going to take time for you to trust me again, Max, and that’s okay. I’m going to prove to you that you can count on me. You’ll see.”

She pulls Ororo close, wrapping her arms around the would-be siblings and smiling as they cling to her.

“Take care of each other. And Charles and Erik too.”

“We will Aunt Raven.”

“Yeah, we’ll make sure the Prof. and Max’s Papa don’t fight too much while you’re away.”

She answers with a soft smile, full of warmth. “I’m counting on it.”

 

x

Logan comes to say goodbye on a cold November morning, toting the same scuffed and dirty duffel bag he carried three years ago when he first came to the School.

_He’s just finished tying the new saddle bag to the bike when Chuck rolls into the garage beside Hank, a slight wrinkle on his forehead the only outward sign that he’s troubled by the implications of the scene before him._

_“Are you leaving?” the Prof. asks in a soft voice, eyes darting between the motorcycle parked by the door and Logan standing there in his leather jacket and riding boots. “When...Are you coming back?”_

_“Leaving?” he shakes his head and grins and doesn’t miss the relieved smile on Chuck’s face or his shoulders straightening slightly at the response. “Nah, you ain’t getting rid of me just yet. I asked you here so you can check out the adjustments we made to the bike.”_

_Charles shoots a glance at Hank who just smiles back at him as he moves in for a closer look. He can see the Prof. checking the alterations with interest; the cup styled foot rests added for the passenger sitting behind Logan; the moulded, high backed ergonomic seat with a lap belt to hold the person in place._

_He’s not sure what he expected Chuck’s reaction to be, but it’s certainly not the tight lipped frown that crosses his face._

_“I’m sorry, Logan. I do appreciate all the work you and Hank have done here for Max. And I know he’s been begging you to take him out on the bike for months now but he’s only six, and I’m not sure he should be riding even with the additional safety--”_

_“Hey, hey, you got it all wrong,” he cuts in with a huff and chuckles when the Prof. gives him a confused look. “It’s not for Max.”_

_“Oh...well. Good. Very good. I think the older students will probably appreciate the chance to go out for a ride with you. Especially Scott; I think he’s always had a real interest in motorcycles--”_

_Hank can barely contain the excitement brimming across his face, the mirth at Charles’ rambling finally erupting as he grips the man’s shoulder and interrupts, “Professor, these adjustments were made for you.”_

_Charles is speechless for a moment, eyes wide and mouth open as he looks alternately between the two men and the motorcycle. The realization dawns slowly – the rounded footrests to hold his feet in place; the moulded high back built to the size and specifications from Hank’s work on his wheelchair._

_“You did this...for me?” he murmurs, running his hand along the sleek lines of the gas tank and over the new leather seat._

_Logan grabs the helmet off the workbench and hands it to the Prof. with a smirk. “Wanna go for a ride?”_

_Charles smiles._

_\---_

_They ride for a long time, crisscrossing empty country roads in the general vicinity of the School. Chuck’s arms are wrapped tightly around him as they speed along, his laughter infectious as he urges Logan to go faster and faster._

_He finally stops at a small lake about five miles away from the mansion and pulls up close to the water’s edge, parking the bike under a large oak tree. Charles watches him with a grin as he hops off and unpacks the saddle bag before helping the Prof., settling them both onto the blanket he’s spread out on the ground._

_“Did you bring a picnic?” Chuck says with disbelief, laughing as he reaches for a beer and one of the sandwiches, and grinning at Logan from ear to ear. “I had no idea you were such a romantic.”_

_“I’m not.” He scowls, and the Prof. just laughs harder. “Just wanted a snack. Riding’s thirsty work, Chuck.”_

_Thankfully, Charles doesn’t push the point or question Logan’s motivations for their outing. He simply sits contentedly, enjoying the soft breeze and the gentle swaying of the trees all around them._

_Logan doesn’t know how long they’ve been there, sharing a comfortable silence in the early June sunshine when Charles turns to him and reaches for his hand. The Prof. grips him tightly and squeezes, smile so warm and filled with unrestrained joy that Logan thinks he might remember this moment for...a long, long time._

_“Thank you,” Chuck says with a contented sigh. “I haven’t felt this way in so long. Such a sense of...freedom since the accident. It’s different from using my telepathy, this is...it’s...” The Prof. leans over and kisses him softly on the cheek and a feeling uncomfortably close to affection unfurls in Logan’s stomach. “Thank you, for everything.”_

_“Charles...you’re welcome.”_

\---

“Will you be back?”

Charles watches as Logan leans against the edge of his desk, dropping his bag on the floor with a light thump. He tries to keep the expression on his face neutral, not wanting the other man to know how much his impending departure hurts.

“Not sure,” Logan answers, his brows furrowed and posture tense. “Just know it’s time to hit the road again. Don’t really stay in one place for long.”

Except that he has, Charles wants to argue. He’s stayed ever since the mission in Mexico City three years ago and made the School his home. Has become Charles’ friend and lover and an integral part of his and Max’s lives. That for the occasional disappearance he’s always returned, to a friendship that Charles didn’t realize he needed quite so much until he’s on the brink of losing it.

He swallows the lump in his throat and hopes that his words aren’t tinged with the desperation he’s feeling. “Logan, you don’t have to leave. This is your home too. Erik isn’t--”

“Chuck.” Logan’s expression softens and he pushes off the desk, crouching in front of the wheelchair, hand resting on Charles’ arm. “You know I can’t stay. Me and old Mags...it wouldn’t work. And I don’t wanna be your excuse to keep him at arm’s length.”

He sputters indignantly at the accusation. “I’m not! I wouldn’t--”

“No, maybe not intentionally,” Logan agrees, “though if I stay, he’s going to see me as a rival; a threat. And you need time to figure out what you want to do about Magneto without any more crap added to the mix.”

“We’re all adults here, Logan. I’m certain we can work things out without you leaving.”

“It ain’t forever, Chuck.” Logan smiles, sliding his hand to take the Prof’s own as he says, “I’m sure I’ll be back eventually.”

“Eventually? Is that a year? Two? A decade?”

Charles is seized by an irrational fear in that moment, that he’s never going to see Logan again. A fear coupled with the dawning realization that his feelings for the other man are perhaps a bit more complicated than he’d ever imagined. He takes a deep breath and drags Logan into a kiss; a slow, soft caress of lips answered with equal tenderness and completely at odds with the raw desire that has always been the basis of their mutual attraction.

He pulls away reluctantly, hand cupping a stubbled cheek. “You know how I...I just wish...” And Charles sighs, struggling for the right words before he finally says, simply, “Try not to forget us.”

“I wouldn’t, Chuck,” Logan answers with conviction. “Not a chance.”

 

x

Alex is the last to leave, three days after Christmas.

_He knocks on the door and waits, not sure if the Prof. will acknowledge him this time, or simply refuse to answer. There’s no sound coming from inside the bedroom so there’s a chance that Charles is asleep._

_He sleeps a lot these days._

_Alex’s question is answered a moment later when he receives a mental equivalent of a surly ‘come in’. He opens the door and steps inside, taking great pains to keep his face impassive. Stepping carefully over the broken glass he makes his way over to the Prof. who is sitting propped up in bed, staring fixedly at an empty bottle of hundred year old Scotch in his hand. His expression is unreadable, the curtains allowing only a sliver of the mid-afternoon sun to shine through and cut a swath through the darkness._

_“Charles.” He hesitates beside the bed, reaching forward and lightly grasping the end of the bottle. “Can I get you anything? Cup of tea? A snack?”_

_The Prof. looks up at him and smiles, a mirthless, empty facsimile of the real thing. He tips the bottle clutched in both their hands and says, “I could use another one of these.”_

_Alex shakes his head and sighs before answering, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Hank says the baby--“_

_“I don’t care about the damn baby!” Charles yanks the bottle out of his hand and throws it across the room, glass shattering and raining down over the wheelchair parked against the wall. “I don’t care about diets and vitamins and taking better care of myself! I didn’t ask for...this! I didn’t ask for any of it!”_

_The Prof’s chest is heaving by the end of the tirade, eyes wide and burning with helpless, hopeless rage and Alex is almost knocked over by the wave of_ resentmentangerdespair _that slams into him. He takes a deep breath to steady himself as it fades away slowly, Charles reining his emotions back in without another word._

_He sits down on the edge of the bed and waits, staring at Charles until the other man finally looks up and growls, “What?”_

_Alex has never been one to shy away from the uncomfortable truths in life and he thinks saying it out loud will get Charles to acknowledge his internal conflict. “You don’t...you’re not keeping it.”_

_The Prof. physically deflates in front of him, slumping back against the pillows and rubbing both hands over his face. “I...I don’t know. I just...I don’t know.”_

_“Have you...,” and he pauses, certain it’s a bad idea but knowing he has to continue, “...are you going to tell Erik?”_

_Charles laughs, a low rumbling sound that slowly builds into a terrible wheezing rattle that makes Alex ache. “Erik? What do you think I should tell him? Your useless, crippled ex-lover is pregnant with your bastard love child? That he can’t believe the luck of it? That not only can he never walk again but he’s also got a baby now to remind him every moment of every day that you_ left!”

_Alex cringes. He’s not good at any of this and he’s probably making things worse but Hank doesn’t know how to handle Charles’ mood swings, still buried in his own issues around his physical transformation, and Sean is completely overwhelmed, frightened to the core they’ll all be sent away and unable to help the Prof. heal and recover._

_“You should tell him.”_

_The Prof. looks up at him but doesn’t answer, his expression enough to convey his astonishment at Alex’s words._

_“I don’t know Erik that well,” and Charles snorts as he continues on, “but I think family must be important to him. He lost his parents when he was just a kid.”_

_“Yes...he loved them...very much.”_

_“I think he would want to know about the baby,” Alex says, and he’s not sure where his certainty comes from but he knows he’s right about Erik, at least in this regard. “He’ll come back, I know it Charles. I’m not saying everything will be fine but he’ll come and you two can talk about this. Decide together what to do.”_

_“You really think he’ll come?”_

_And Alex looks into the Prof’s blood shot eyes and says, with as much conviction as he can muster, “Yeah, I think he will.”_

Erik fucking Lehnsherr, _he thinks,_ you better not let us down again.

\---

The announcement comes only two weeks after Logan’s departure, at the end of the weekly Sunday dinner.

He watches as Alex tells the assembled teachers and students of his decision to leave after Christmas, to take a lengthy sabbatical from the School to travel and to recruit mutants overseas. There is shock written clearly across all the faces Erik sees around the table, all except for Charles who calmly sits with his hands in his lap and his expression impassive.

Later, when the commotion dies down and he and Charles have put a still crying Max to bed, Erik makes his way to Alex’s room for a long overdue conversation.

He’s not expecting a fight when he gets there, but he’s still surprised when Alex opens the door and beckons him in, as though he’s been waiting – expecting – Erik’s visit.

The room is already half in boxes, suitcases open and overflowing as though the packing has been going on for days instead of hours. He wonders when Alex made his decision to leave, and how long Charles has been aware of it before the news was shared with the rest of the School.

Alex turns to face him, waving at Erik to take a seat before leaning casually against the desk. He crosses his arms and stares, waiting patiently it seems for Erik to ask his questions.

“Why are you leaving?”

It’s an obvious question with an obvious answer, but he wants to hear it from Alex directly...and for Charles’ sake, maybe try to change the other man’s mind.

Alex snorts, looking rather amused and asks simply in return, “Wouldn’t you if you were me?”

He would, if he were in Alex’s shoes, uncertain he would have been able to stay all these years by Charles’ side knowing there could never be more. And it’s probably better for Alex to go, to build a new life of his own away from the memories and complications.

If he was less selfish, he would let the man go and wish him well.

But he knows Charles cares deeply for Alex – loves him – and so he will do what he can to fix this, if it can be fixed.

“You’re right, I would.” He nods and Alex smirks, settling comfortably as he watches Erik from across the room. “But you’re not me and you’ve told me many times that you make better choices than I do. So why would you leave your brother? Charles? And Max who adores you?”

“Scott was the one who suggested it. He understands things better than I thought he would. Charles is supportive of my decision and Max...well Max has you now so that’ll lessen the sting.”

“We can learn to work together again Alex. I know you’re angry and you hate me but we’re adults and I think given some time, we could--“

Alex raises his hand and cuts him off mid-sentence. “This is not about you Magneto. At least...not about you and I getting along.” He rakes his hand through his hair absently, before fixing his gaze on Erik once more.

“I realized that I’ve been living _your_ life all these years,” he explains, voice calm and composed. “That I’ve been in love with your partner; raising your son. Taken over your role as Charles’ support and his best friend. Don’t get me wrong I don’t regret any of it, but I think it’s time that I figured out what _my_ life is supposed to be. And I don’t think I can do that here.”

He doesn’t quite know how to answer, torn between gratitude for Alex’s loyalty to Charles and jealousy for the time he’s missed with his family. Alex must see something of his thoughts on his face because he chuckles and pushes himself off the desk, crossing the room to stand in front of Erik.

“You and I,” Alex says, waving his finger between them, “are never going to be friends. I’m never going to like you and the things you’ve done. And I’m still not convinced that you won’t bolt eventually. But more than anything I want Charles and Max to be happy. So you know, take care of them.” He slaps a hand on Erik’s shoulder, an almost feral grin on his face. “And don’t fuck it up.”

Erik answers with a smile that’s all teeth. “I can promise you, Summers, that I'll do my best.”


	21. Epilogue: Try, Try Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well let me just say that if you’ve been following this since the beginning - thank you SO MUCH for your patience, and I hope that the ending wraps things up for you in a satisfying manner. 
> 
> It was a lot more difficult for me to get here than expected, I think mostly because of DOFP coming out and completely derailing me from finishing this story. But it IS finally finished, and I’m quite content with the way Erik’s journey back to Charles comes to its end. :D
> 
> A reminder that I’ve written a number of ficlets in this ’verse that expand the overall story (including Charles and Erik’ last night before Cuba) - [you can find them here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501139/).
> 
> Thanks again for reading and THANK YOU KAGE for all your support, Darling!!!!

_5 months later_

“How far does the tunnel have to go?”

“Far,” Papa answers, tracing an invisible path on the map of the house and grounds. Max clamors into his Papa’s lap, garnering an amused chuckle and a gentle hand carding through his hair. “The tunnel needs to extend from here all the way to the edge of the property. Maybe beyond.”

“It’s an escape route right, Mr. Erik?” Ororo pipes up, and Papa smiles at her, his eyes going soft like it does when he looks at Max. “In case bad people come to the school? And we have to get away?”

His Papa frowns then, and Max can feel a simmering anger radiating from him at the question, though it’s not directed at either of _them_. Papa is always just a little angry at the fact that there are people out there who want to hurt them, just for having the powers that make them special.

And different.

“Only very unwise people would come here, looking to cause trouble,” his Papa says, his expression easing back into a slow smile. “But I have found that the world doesn’t lack for very unwise people indeed. So we need to prepare for extenuating circumstances, just in case. Our priority is to keep you and the other children safe.”

Ororo laughs. “You sound just like the Professor.”

Papa grins and flicks Ororo gently on the nose, making her giggle. “I think you might be right,” he teases, before swiping her last cookie right out of her hand and taking a bite. “But I bet Charles wouldn’t do _that_!”

“Hey!”

Max can’t stop laughing at the sight of Ro’s indignant scowl and Papa’s attempts to ward her off by holding the stolen cookie high above their heads. It makes him happy to see how much his Papa has warmed to the other students at the School in the past ten months – especially Ororo, who Max loves so very much. He hopes that Papa will come to love her as much as he and Daddy both, since he knows Daddy can’t have any more babies, so Max will never have a sibling of his own.

But Daddy also told him a long time ago, that family is not just the people who are related to you by blood; sometimes, the family you make can mean just as much.

x

  
 “How’s the construction coming along?” Charles asks, his fingers rubbing absently against the armrest as he considers his next move. “Max tells me you’ve been helping him train, letting him move some of the rubble in the tunnels with his powers.”

They’re in Charles’ room tonight, the study having been commandeered by Hank and Sean after the School’s welcome dinner for the new staff. Charles had retreated from the impromptu party soon after breaking out the ten year old Scotch – much to Ms. Braddock’s approval – and headed up to join Erik for their usual chess game.

“He’s perfectly safe, Charles, I would never--”

“I know that,” Charles interrupts, sounding fond and exasperated at the same time. “I know you would never let him get hurt under your watch. It was just a question, not a criticism, my friend.”

Charles punctuates his assertion with a nudge of his telepathy, letting Erik see glimpses of his earlier conversation with Max and the boy’s excitement; to sense Charles’ own regard for Erik’s care and his continued efforts to bond with their son. In the months since Erik decided to stay, Charles has been slowly warming to his presence, both in their lives and in his head, giving him hope that their relationship could eventually return to the way it was before Cuba.

Or perhaps, to something less ephemeral and built to last.

“It’s coming along,” Erik answers, choosing to move past the misunderstanding, letting Charles feel the weight of his appreciation from his thoughts instead of his words. “A few more weeks to finish digging the tunnel and reinforce the walls. We’ll have three exits leading into the escape route; one in the corridor by the students’ rooms, one in the lab, and one through the library.”

“Hmm,” is the only response, which is in line with the balance of Charles input thus far, whenever Erik updates him on the status of this particular project. He suspects that he knows Charles’ reason for keeping his distance – in large an attempt to keep him busy and invested in the welfare of the School. And as much as he finds Charles’ manoeuvring to be both obvious and infuriating, he can also be grateful for his former lover’s efforts to help him integrate into this new life.

“I didn’t realize I was so obvious, Erik, or infuriating,” Charles teases, as he takes a slow sip of his Scotch. His eyes linger on Erik’s face as he swallows, and the heat of his gaze makes the air around them suddenly sizzle with unspoken tension. “Would you like me to stop?”

This moment - the anticipation, the intense rush of desire – is reminiscent of so many nights they’ve spent in one another’s company, both before Cuba and since Erik’s return. His body is tuned to Charles like it’s been with no other; he can recall with perfect clarity the taste of his skin and the press of his fingers, though it’s been almost a decade since the last time they made love.

But he _remembers_ , every glance and every touch, signalling Charles’ attraction as he offers himself to Erik for the taking.

And Charles is clearly, unequivocally sending him a signal now.

He moves, his legs carrying him out of his seat and around the chessboard, dropping to his knees in front of the wheelchair as Charles drags him practically into his lap. They’ve been building to this, over the course of weeks and months now, a delicate dance of _soon, but not yet_ where Charles leads and Erik willingly follows.

“No,” he breathes, “don’t stop,” and Charles kisses him in response, strong, thick fingers carding gently through his hair. Erik’s wraps his arms around Charles and tugs him close, while Charles grips Erik’s face between his palms, mouth opening to deepen their kiss with a desperate, ragged sigh.

They stay like this for a long time, locked together in a tight embrace, fingers and mouths clutching tight as their bodies reacquaint themselves in old, familiar ways. Erik has never forgotten what it means to be with Charles; how it made him _believe_ in a happiness he didn’t even know was possible.

 _Help me, darling_ , Charles says, and Erik obliges, lifting him out of the chair and carrying him across the room to his bed. It’s a testament of just how far they’ve come in these past few months, that Charles would allow such liberties and let Erik see him without his metaphorical armor; a man with needs and vulnerabilities like any other.

Charles pulls and Erik follows, as they topple breathlessly onto the bed. This – he _knows_ this, knows where to bite and where to lick as he traces the smattering of freckles hiding under Charles’ collared shirt. This is where he wants to be – _needs_ to be – and he can’t help but whisper the words into Charles’ skin –

_I love you._

_It’s you and me._

_Now. Forever._

“Stop, stop, stop,” Charles mutters, surprising Erik by shoving him over onto the mattress and sliding backwards on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard with a grimace. “This isn’t…it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not.”

“Charles,” he murmurs, “what are you talking about?”

“ _This._ ” Charles punctuates his answer with a wave of his hand, indicating some combination of Erik, the bed, and their state of dishevelment. “This is not us getting back together, Erik. This is not ‘forever’, and ‘you and me’, and any of the other things you’re thinking in your head. It’s just sex, alright? Can it be just that? And nothing more?”

Erik pulls himself up into a sitting position, and scrubs his face with both his hands. “No, I don’t think it can be ‘just sex’, Charles. Because it’s never been ‘just sex’ between us. Never.”

“Then I’m sorry for leading you on, but I think it’s best if you go back to your room and we forget about this,” Charles insists, and Erik’s expression must be thunderous, because Charles at least has the wherewithal to wince.

“It’s fine, if you don’t want to have sex with me,” Erik begins, doing his best to keep his temper in check. “I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do. But clearly, something is going on in your head that I’m not privy to, and I’d appreciate hearing what it is before you kick me out of your room.”

For long moments, Charles just stares at him, and Erik thinks he might actually refuse to answer. But then, he lets out a sigh and tips his head back against the headboard, and what follows is soft and hesitant, like the words are being dragged out of him unwillingly.

“You came back for Max.”

“Yes.”

“You came back, because you found out we had a son together. You wanted to see him; to know him.”

“Yes,” Erik agrees. “What does this have to do with us?”

“Everything,” Charles says, with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t come back for me, Erik. If it wasn’t for Max…you didn’t come back for _me_.”

\---

He said it.

It had been there all along, a tight, hurt thing burrowed deep inside his chest from the moment Erik and Raven stepped back into the mansion again, after eight long years.

He knows that Erik is not a man who takes his feelings lightly; _knows_ that Erik loves him, perhaps more than anyone he’s ever loved since his family was brutally taken from him. Charles is a grown man and not a child to want promises and pretty words; actions they say after all, are louder than words.

And Erik is nothing but a man of action.

It isn’t as though Charles doesn’t want the things Erik is whispering like oaths against his skin. But he doesn’t _trust_ it, because he doesn’t trust Erik’s love for him; knows better than to think that the love he holds for Charles is enough to keep them together.

That it’s enough for Erik…because it’s never been enough.

To welcome him back, in the way they both want, whole and complete and more than they had before Cuba is to open his heart and let Erik back in. And though Charles is capable of bearing the loss again he’s not sure it’s worth it, well aware of the toll it took on him the first time they parted ways. Charles has Max and a school full of students who rely on him for comfort and support; he can ill afford to let his feelings overwhelm him as they did in the days and months before Max was born.

He looks up to find Erik watching him, expression as indecipherable as ever when Charles is deliberately shielding himself from Erik’s thoughts. It might be annoyance, or perhaps anger that is slowly making Erik’s lips narrow into a thin line and his jaw clench, Charles isn’t sure, but he is not prepared for what happens next, for Erik to just get up off the bed, turn around and walk out the door.

Slumping back against the pillows, Charles closes his eyes, and lets the hurt and disappointment wash over him. He can’t say that he’s all that surprised at Erik’s reaction; that he wouldn’t – or couldn’t – bother to deny Charles’ claim. He should have never let his attraction to Erik complicate an already complicated situation, and wonders if they’ve effectively wiped away the progress they’ve made repairing their friendship these past few months.

But the door opens again, and Erik strides in, startling him as he takes a seat next to Charles and places a sealed metal box on the bed. He looks expectantly at Charles, nudging it closer with his powers, and then flips the lid open to reveal what looks like dozens of letters, sealed and unopened.

“Are these—”

“No,” Erik replies, as he lifts one of the envelopes out of the box and hands it to him. “These aren’t the letters you wrote to me. _I_ wrote these…I started writing them to you, after I got your first letter.”

Charles turns the milky white envelope over in his hand, and reads his name written on the front in Erik’s bold and elegant script. “I don’t understand. Why did you write me letters? And why didn’t you send them to me?”

“Charles,” Erik says, voice intent, dragging his attention from the envelope to Erik’s face, his expression warm and fond; the way he used to look when he thought Charles was being particularly obtuse. “I wrote them because I never stopped thinking of you. It helped me feel closer to you, even if I could never bring myself to send them. I _love_ you. More than you know. More than I’ve ever been able to tell you.”

“I don’t--”

“Please, let me finish,” Erik interjects, twining their fingers together as Charles heaves a reluctant sigh. “You’re right. I did come back because of Max. I don’t know if I would be here now if it weren’t for our son. But Charles, I _would_ have come back, eventually. I always meant to come home to you…you’re my home.”

It’s the way Erik sounds when he says the words, not harsh like a rebuke, or smug and biting when he’s trying to prove a point. No, Erik says it like a statement of fact; like the sky is blue and the earth is round, and that, more than anything is what convinces Charles of his sincerity.

He swallows the lump in his throat and lets Erik take his hand. “I believe you, and I do want to make this work. I just…I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to…”

“To trust me?” Erik murmurs, as he squeezes Charles’ hand. “As long as it takes, Charles. And as long as it takes for me to trust _this_ , that there are no more secrets between us. That you’re not going to keep Max from me.”

“I would never--”

“No, I know that too. But the fear is there, and it’s going to take time. For you _and_ for me. So we’ll just take it day by day, until it feels right.”

Charles lets out a soft chuckle and smiles. “What if it never feels right? Couldn’t we just have sex anyway? Until we figure it out?”

He watches as Erik shifts and kicks off his shoes, floating the metal box of letters to the floor to make room for himself next to Charles on the bed. They sit side by side against the headboard, holding each other’s hands like they never did as young lovers, on the cusp of something exciting and new.

“Whatever you want, Charles,” Erik replies with an answering smile. “However long it takes. I’m here. _We’re_ here. We’ll make it work.”

\---

“Erik,” he whispers, hours later, the two of them curled against each other in Charles’ bed. “I have an idea.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s a girl, a telepath and telekinetic, like Max. I found her with Cerebro and she really needs our help. I want to find her. Speak with her parents. Bring her here.”

Erik shifts and wraps his arms tighter around Charles, lips pressed against the nape of his neck. “You want me to come with you?”

 _I do_ , he sends. _It’ll be like old times. Just you and me, on the road. Finding others like us. Bringing them home._

 _I’d like that,_ Erik answers. _I’d like nothing more._

 

**THE END**


End file.
